I've got you
by 20BlueRoses
Summary: When Ethan listens to a voicemail from his brother, he can tell straight away that something isn't right. But is he able to fix everything the one time that Cal needs him the most?
1. Chapter 1

I've been trying to ease my heartbreak. It works quite while I'm writing, not so much when I stop and remember what actually happened. I imagine reading this will be similar, so don't say I didn't warn you!

This is still in progress but I imagine 4 or 5 parts. Sorry it's not my best writing. Also I hold my hands up that I know nothing about medical stuff (although I have researched) or police investigations.

Reviews are much appreciated. Mutual crying over Cal is also welcome.

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1.

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As Ethan watches Alicia approach the bar, he feels a smile creep onto his face. For fear of her catching him looking like a gormless idiot, he tries to supress it, but the corner of his mouth twitches straight back into a grin.

And as if she knows he's thinking about her, Alicia looks over her shoulder. She winks and he feels heat rush to his face as he recalls what she suggested earlier; one more drink then back to hers. He waves at her, trying to play it cool, but from the way she wriggles her eyebrows he's sure both their minds are at the same place.

He can't believe they've finally agreed to make a go of things. He can't believe he's spent the last hour with a girl that attractive attached to his lips. And, the most surprising thing of all is that they've managed it with Cal's blessing.

He feels a twinge of guilt in his stomach at ignoring his brother's call. Chances are Cal phoned to enquire whether he'd had the guts to kiss her yet and Ethan hadn't fancied admitting the details to his brother in front of the girl in question. To moderate the dismissal, he pulls his phone from his pocket and chuckles to himself as he imagines Cal's reaction to a message that simply says 'don't expect me home tonight'.

He frowns slightly as he registers the message symbol on the phone. Alicia's shuffling impatiently as she waits to be served, so he dials his voicemail and holds the phone to his ear.

"Ethan, how many times, right?" he hears Cal snap, "that voicemail is not funny." There's barely a beat before Cal continues. "Listen, are you still at work? Cos I think Scott is definitely after you, all right? So just… let me know you're okay. Right? Just be in touch, yeah?"

Ethan slowly draws the phone away from his ear. He knows his brother well enough to detect the stress in his voice. Truthfully, he's barely thought about Scott since he and Alicia had arrived in the pub but it's obvious something has riled Cal and he can't ignore that. He selects the call button and waits for Cal to answer. The phone rings out to voicemail.

He rubs at his forehead. He knows Cal is rarely apart from his phone, particularly when he is desperate for something. Out of the corner of his eye, Ethan registers Alicia handing over the money he'd given her for their drinks, and he hastily redials the voicemail to listen to his brother's message again before she returns.

Something's wrong, he's sure of it. He can't explain what, but he can hear it in his big brother's voice and feel it in his little brother instinct.

Alicia arrives back at the table and slides his pint in front of him.

He looks at her blankly. "I've got to go."

She takes a sip of her wine. "You'd better be joking." She grins as if it's a game.

"I'm terribly sorry," he says. "It's Cal."

"Cal? I thought you said he was cool with us?"

"No, no, he is." Ethan nearly pokes himself in the eye with his glasses as he returns them to his face. "I just- he left me this- I'm really sorry, I will explain properly but I need to check on him."

Alicia winces. "And I'll just amuse myself, shall I?"

"It's not you. I really, really enjoyed tonight," he says. He leans over to her and presses his lips gently against hers. She doesn't return the kiss. "I'm sorry. You can… have my drink."

Ethan pulls his coat off the back of the seat in such a hurry that the chair almost wobbles over. He tries Alicia with one last apologetic smile but she's sat with her arms folded, refusing to meet his eyes. He sighs, hoping he's not ruined his final chance.

"Thank you for understanding," he says, softly. "You really are something special."

"It's fine," she says in a tone that's heavily implies it's not. "Brothers first. As always."

Ethan gives an uncomfortable nod and dashes from the pub. Immediately he's assaulted by a downpour of heavy rain. He opens his umbrella and battles to hold it upright as he dials his brother once more. There's no answer and as he paces around the carpark he considers leaving a frantic as voicemail as Cal left him earlier. But the familiar tinkling of an unanswered phone stops him in his tracks.

He squints into the dark as he listens. The ringtone dies out at the same moment his phone call disconnects. A dark foreboding stirs in the pit of his stomach. He walks forward as he calls Cal again and in the surrounding area he hears the same ringing as before.

"Cal?" he calls. "Caleb?"

There's no reply but the phone is still ringing, both in his hand and in the cold night air.

He shakes his head. It's hard to identify the direction of the noise amid the steady thunder of rain but he heads towards the hospital entrance. He phones his brother again and listens, triumphant that the noise seems to be getting louder.

And then he sees the body.

It's only a silhouette at first, someone slumped among the flowerpots at the corner of the alley, but somehow he knows.

"Cal?" he calls again. "Is that you?"

There's a weak stirring in the body, a nod of a head confirming yes.

A wave of panic shoots through Ethan's chest and sticks in the throat. For a second he's rooted to the spot. Then his feet move. He leaps towards the door of the E.D. Staff members are milling in the distance but their faces are blurry and he can only identify them by the blues of their tunics.

"Help!" he screams "I need help! Get a trolley!"

He flings his umbrella to one side and runs to his brother, his knees hitting the tarmac with a painful crunch. His brother's eyes are open but he's soaked through and his head's swaying as if he's struggling to keep upright.

"Cal? Cal, are you okay? What's happened?" Ethan doesn't want for an answer once he sees that his brother's hand is pressed firmly against his chest. He squeezes his own hand beneath his brother's and feels the thick, sticky wetness of blood. "You're bleeding." Bile surges into his throat. "Have you been stabbed?"

Cal's mouth flaps and it could be a yes but Ethan's too distracted by the haunted look in his eyes.

"A- are you… okay?" Cal manages.

"Me? What?"

Cal's eyes flutter. "Scott."

Ethan frowns at first but then the world around him darkens and all he can hear is the sound of his brother's rasping breaths. When he can finally see clearly again, he understands. Scott did this. Scott had stabbed his brother. But Scott hadn't been after Cal, he'd been after him. And that meant it should be him lying there bleeding, not his big brother. Cal had saved him but it was at his own expense.

Ethan wants to cry. He wants to shout at his brother for getting involved. But neither would help right now and so he swallows furiously and presses his fingers against the pulse point on Cal's neck. His pulse is faint and Ethan can feel it's beating far faster than it should be.

"D-don't worry about that for now," he stammers, in a bid to calm his brother. "You need to focus on yourself. Help is on the way."

Cal looks at him and Ethan can tell that there are tears on his cheeks amid the rainwater. His chin trembles. "Ethan," he says, his voice shaking and quiet. "I don't want to die."

Ethan's throat burns. He blinks furiously. "No, no, you're not going to die." He presses firmer on the stab wound on Cal's chest and winces at the gasp of pain his brother releases as he does so. "I promise, Caleb, I'm not letting you die."

Cal manages a nod but his eyes are glassy and he doesn't look convinced. "Back," he whispers.

"Back?" Ethan repeats, confused. "Are you hurt there too?"

Cal gives another lost little nod.

"Okay, let me take a look." Ethan says. "Lean on me."

He scoops his brother against his chest and takes a deep breath, hoping Cal can't feel how heavily his heart his hammering. His hand explores the back of Cal's shoulder and soon finds another bleeding wound. He places his second hand over the gash and presses firm. In his arms, Cal's shivering, his temperature frighteningly low.

"It's okay, Cal," he says. "It's okay."

Despite being far from reassured by his own words, Ethan hopes they provided more comfort to his brother. But then a clatter behind him announces the arrival of a trolley and more hope than any words could.

Without checking which of his colleagues have come to help, Ethan starts reeling off the essential information. "He has two stab wounds," he says, shakily. "One in the lower left lobe of his chest and the second the back of his left shoulder."

As Dylan crouches down next to him, Ethan leans Cal back against the wall, all the while careful to continue exerting pressure on the most concerning wound on his chest. He lets Dylan holds his stethoscope against Cal's chest but everything seems to be taking ages and he's desperate to get his brother inside.

Ethan's leans forward "Pulse is rapid but thready," he says, trying to speed his colleague up.

He waits again as Dylan listens and murmurs his own agreement. Cal's eyes are shut now but Ethan can tell he's still conscious from the creases across his forehead and the small moans slipping from his lips. He'd been trying to stay brave for his brother's sake but now Cal's condition is beginning to hit him, the words come rushing out. "Please help him."

"I intend to," Dylan says. He retrieves a torch from his shirt pocket and shines it in Cal's eyes. "Right, Cal, we're going to get you in and get this bleed sorted, okay?"

Cal blinks and manages a small gasp of a yes.

It's a struggle to stay close to Cal while Dylan and Elle lift him onto the trolley, but Ethan manages to keep his hands firmly against his brother's chest the whole time. The noise of his brother's cries ache through Ethan's bones. His legs won't stop shaking and he's almost grateful when Dylan brusquely insists on taking over applying pressure.

He follows the trolley down the same corridor he's walked down hundreds of times but everything is unfamiliar now and he can barely keep up. The doors to Resus swing back so viscously they clatter into him and he staggers into the room, just in time to hear Dylan's words.

"He's unconscious, he's unresponsive to pain," Dylan says. "Let's give him some oxygen please, quickly."

Ethan stumbles to a halt in the middle of Resus. He takes off his rain speckled glasses and watches intently as an oxygen mask is stretched over his brother's head. Shock is written on his colleagues faces. Every so often someone shoots him a concerned glance but he can't even attempt to pretend he's okay when Cal is still not moving.

"He's lost a lot of blood, Dylan," Elle says. "How long was he out there for? Ethan?"

Ethan's tongue feels like it's stuck to the roof of his mouth. "I- I- dunno."

"Too long," Dylan states grimly.

Ethan feels useless. There are so many people around the bed and they're moving faster than he can comprehend. He wants to help but he can't keep up. He can hear his colleagues speaking and knows they're words he should understand but everything is blurry and nothing makes sense. Cal should not be on that trolley.

"Let's get two lines in, give him two units of O Neg and cross match for eight and then let's send up for some FFP and platelets please."

"Cap refill is delayed."

"Yeah, he's had a massive pneumothorax. If he was stabbed, it's perforated the lung."

"He's going to need a thoracostomy."

"Ethan, he's asking for you."

It's the last voice which finally reaches Ethan and it's Charlie's voice, even though Ethan can't remember him entering the room. He replays the sentence and then his legs clumsily lead him to the trolley.

There's a fear in Cal's eyes that Ethan's never seen before and that scares him as much as the injuries. He rests his shaking hand on the side of his Cal's face and gently stokes his thumb across his brother's cheek.

"It's okay, it's okay," he murmurs.

Cal looks up at him helplessly.

"Okay, can someone get me a scalpel please," Dylan says, "and 20ml of 1% lignocaine."

Ethan's hand remains on his brother but his focus is on the scalpel in Dylan's hand as it slices into Cal's pleural cavity. Crimson blood pools down Cal's side and even though he can understand the logistics as a doctor, as a brother it feels wrong to be creating more wounds as a way to fix him.

Cal moans softly and Ethan's attention is back as a single tear trickles down his brother's cheek. Ethan wipes it away but is grateful when Elle does what he can't and calmly reassures Cal that he's going to be fine.

Ethan tries to watch as Dylan widens the cut and begins to insert the chest tube. But Cal's hand weakly bats at his leg and Ethan can see his lips moving beneath the oxygen mask. He places his head right next to his brother's and lifts the mask a fraction away from his brother's mouth.

"What is it?"

"I- love you," Cal whispers.

But as Ethan opens his mouth to reply, he hears a bubbling of the drain. The cry of frustration from Dylan feels as if someone has punched him in the stomach. He leans across the bed and sees the clear fluid rapidly turning scarlet. In panic, he swings back to his brother. Cal's eyes flicker shut.

"He's bleeding out," someone says. "I can't feel a pulse."

"He's arrested."

Instinctively, Ethan moves to learn over his brother, his fists interlocked and ready to pound on Cal's chest. But arms clench down on his shoulders and drag him to the side.

"No!" he shouts. He tries to wriggle his way back in front of his colleagues, but Charlie's hold is surprisingly firm and he can't do anything more useful than try to stop his legs giving way as the nurse manoeuvres him to the foot of the bed.

Through the mass of bodies, Ethan can just about see Elle tilt his brother's head backwards and start to feed a thin tube down his throat. He feels sick. He feels like there's something obstructing his own windpipe. He can't believe it's _Cal_ there, bleeding internally, unable to even breathe for himself.

"We'll do a clamshell thoracotomy," Dylan says. "We need to get to this bleed."

Ethan wants to object. He wants to tell Dylan the success rates are too low, to beg him to think of a different plan. He wants to plead with him to save his big brother. But the words stick in his throat.

As he watches Dylan makes the first incision, the edges of Ethan's vision darken. All he can see is the knife that's slicing his brother's chest open and the red ooze of blood as the skin is torn. All he can hear are the steady beeping of machines.

And when Dylan clamps Cal's chest open, Ethan's legs buckle. Charlie hauls him back to his feet and he stares at the mess that is Cal's chest. His left thoracic cavity is filled with blood and although Dylan's hands are inside, with swabs and suction, Ethan can see he's struggling to clear enough blood to fix the tear.

He can literally see his big brother's heart and it's not beating.

Ethan doesn't realise he's started crying until Charlie's hand squeezes his shoulder. He roughly wipes the tears from his cheeks and squirms out of the older man's hold.

"Let me go to him," he says.

He's careful not to disturb Dylan's work but squeezes in by his brother's head. He softly smooths the rain saturated hair. His brother's skin is unnaturally cold. He bends over and lets his lips graze the top of Cal's forehead.

"I love you too" he murmurs. "You have to- you have to get through this. Please fight, Cal."

There are another few moments of beeping machines and noisy suction, of heavy breathing and desperate mutters.

Then a noise of approval comes from Dylan. "Okay, I've found the tear," he says. "Someone take over with the suction while I suture."

Ethan holds his breath while his colleague completes the procedure. He continues to idly stroke Cal's head. There are still traces of his brother's blood on his fingers and it mingles with Cal's hair. He wonders if he's going to be sick.

"I've got it," Dylan says. He checks the machines. "But there's still no output. Let's shock at 120." He grabs the internal paddles and places them either side of Cal's heart. "Charging…" Elle unfastens the oxygen bag. "All clear… Ethan, all clear!"

Ethan jumps as he's roughly dragged away from his brother. But this time, as Cal's body convulses from the force of the shock, he's grateful someone had more sense left than him. He can't stop shaking but knows it's only partly a result of how close he came to coming into contact with the shock.

"Nothing." Dylan tuts. "Okay, charging again, 180 this time."

"Come on, Cal," Elle murmurs.

"All clear… Shocking."

Ethan feels as if he's about to faint. Black spots creep into his vision.

There's silence.

And then. "We've got a pulse."

Ethan exhales. The strength is stripped from his body and he staggers to the wall to lean on it before his legs give way. He lands on the floor heavily, but it's not pain that causes the tears to stream down his cheeks. Each breath is a struggle and he's dimly aware of the noisy gasps he's making as he fails to compose himself.

"We've got him back," someone says.

"He needs to go straight to theatre," it's Dylan this time. "Ethan, he's not out of the woods but he's alive."


	2. Chapter 2

Wow. Seriously, thank you so much for the reviews, you guys are amazing. I guess it just goes to show how many of us are desperate for Cal to still be alive. I just wish what I'm writing was true (someone give me a job on Casualty! And a time turner. Haha!) I really hope this second installment doesn't let you down.

 **casslourocks:** Thank you for your kind words on my writing, it means so much. If you manage to write something I'll definitely read it, but I can understand the struggles, honestly I had so many false starts before managing to scrape something together. The whole thing is just too sad.

 **Iaveina:** I hope it managed to ease the pain a little. Thank you for reviewing, I really appreciate it.

 **Guest:** Thank you for reviewing. Trust me, if I had my way, that ending never would have happened!

 **tracys dream:** Thanks for your comments, I'm really pleased you enjoyed it. I wish this had happened too!

 **Anonymouse:** Aww thank you so much for your kind review. I'm not sure I'll ever get over it completely but writing something more positive is helping now (not sure what will happen when I stop) so I'm glad reading it has done the same.

 **bronny9:** I think I'm in denial too, although writing this probably isn't helping with that! Thank you so much for reviewing.

 **CBloom2:** Thank you for reviewing. Glad I managed to keep the suspense going even though I'm sure it's no secret how much I want Cal alive.

 **silvermoongirl10:** I'm really pleased you enjoyed it and I hope you continue to do so. Thank you for reviewing.

 **Tanith Panic:** I definitely would have preferred this scene to that heartbreaking one too. I really appreciate you reviewing and being so kind. It's reassuring to know the medical stuff is believable, as I do research but half the time I don't even understand my research lol so it ends up mostly guesswork. Thank you

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2.

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Ethan's in a relative's room in an unfamiliar ward of the hospital. He feels like he's been waiting forever. He wishes he could do something useful but since he was first led into the room his legs have been far too shaky to even stand up. He can't get the image of his brother out his head. His brother on a hospital bed, tube down his throat, chest sliced open, bleeding everywhere. He slumps forward, rests his head in his arms. He feels sick. How is he meant to cope if Cal doesn't pull through?

The door opens and he sits upright expectantly with vigour he didn't think he had. But it's only Alicia.

"Max told me," she says. She shifts from one foot to the other. "Are you okay?"

He can't speak, can't begin to explain how completely not okay he is. Instead, he settles for shaking his head. A sob convulses through his body before he has chances to supress it. Alicia hastens to the seat next to him and pulls him towards her. Without having the energy to feel embarrassed he relaxes into the embrace and noisily cries into her shoulder.

"I- I can't lose him," he stutters. "I can't!"

She rubs his back but her lack of reply only highlights the sound of his gulping sobs.

"It's all my fault," he says.

"No, Ethan, that's not true."

The thought of having to explain why he's to blame makes him cry even harder. He can feel his nose dripping onto the soft material of Alicia's jacket. He knows that's disgusting, especially when it's a girl he wants to impress, but his head's refusing to let him care about anything other than Cal.

"What are they saying?" Alicia asks softly.

Ethan remains with his face buried against Alicia as he attempts a few shallow breaths. "No news," he manages. "Still in surgery."

"I can go see if there are any updates?" she offers

"No!" Ethan feels her jump but he was just as surprised at his own volume. He sits upright and sniffs. "I- I'm sorry. Please stay."

She shuffles in her seat to face him. "I'm going nowhere." She places a hand either side of his face and wipes at his tears with her thumbs. "Hang on."

Ethan sits patiently as she fishes through her handbag. His shoulders are shaking but the flow of tears has eased to an occasional trickle. He draws a hand across his nose. "Sorry," he says.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." She inspects a tissue and shrugs. "As clean as needs be. Now stay still."

Ethan supposes he could wipe his own eyes and nose but when Alicia starts to dab at his face he doesn't stop her. He's drained of energy and it's easier to let her than to protest. He attempts a grateful smile but can feel the downward pull of his mouth turning the expression into a grimace. It's a reminder why they're there and his body sags as he tries not to crumble again.

"He's really hurt, Alicia."

She looks away but Ethan can see that her eyes are damp and that there are tell-tale mascara smudges around them.

"This is Cal, he'll be okay."

"But what if- what if-"

"Don't think like that," she says. She puts an arm around him and pulls him back against her side.

Ethan squeezes his eyes shut. His mouth is so dry it hurts to swallow but he can't imagine being able to stomach even a sip of water. The nausea is overwhelming but grumbling about feeling ill when his brother is fighting for his life would intensify his guilt. He focuses on the weight of Alicia's hand on his arm and tries to picture Cal sitting upright in bed, teasing him for being so scared. The image lasts less than a second before he's haunted by memories of his brother unconscious in Resus.

He hears the sound of the door being opened and looks up to see a weary looking surgeon who he vaguely recognises. Alicia's fingers tighten around his wrist. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest and it somehow renders him mute. Unable to verbalise the words that are echoing around his head, he gawps at the surgeon and shakes his head.

She takes a seat next to him. "Caleb's in ICU," she says. "He's sedated and we're going to keep him on a ventilator until he's strong enough to try breathing for himself."

Ethan still can't speak. His head feels heavy and he can't decide whether the news is good enough for him to relax.

"How long will that be?" Alicia asks.

"We'll review his condition in a few days."

"Days," Ethan repeats numbly. "He- he will be okay?"

The surgeon sighs deeply. "It's too early to say. He's stable at the moment but his injuries were extensive." She places a hand on Ethan's arm. "I need to be honest with you and explain that we had a difficult time in theatre. He arrested again and we got him back after a few attempts, but it's a lot for the body to recover from."

"But he can recover?"

"We're doing our best for him," she says.

Ethan nods but the room is spinning and he feels a tear snake down his cheek.

"I- I need to see him."

"Once he's settled one of the nurses will come and get you." She pulls a tissue from her scrub pocket and tucks it into his hand. "In the meantime, I believe the police want a quick chat. Am I alright to send them through?"

"Can't it wait?" Alicia asks.

"No, no, it's fine," Ethan stammers. "I need to talk to them."

The surgeon gives him a sympathetic smile. "I'll see you later, yeah?" she says as she climbs to her feet.

Ethan's vision is blurry from unshed tears but he can see the fluorescent uniforms as two officers enter. He dabs at his eyes with the gifted tissue and tries to pay attention as they introduce themselves. There's a clear age difference between the two men but they both look at him with the same professional sympathy that is common in his own line of work.

"We understand you were the one who found Caleb Knight," the older officer says.

"He's my brother," Ethan says. He tilts his head to the side, realising his reply hadn't answered their question. "Um, yes, I found him."

"We appreciate this is a difficult time for you," the younger interjects. "But as best as you can, please try to explain the events leading up to you discovering your brother."

Ethan's shudders. Alicia's hand rubs his back and it neither helps nor makes it worse. He frowns as he tries to separate the clash of incidences from one another. He can remember Cal lying there and the heavy rain and the voicemail in the pub and his colleagues everywhere with their hands on his brother and cutting his chest open. But amid the painful memories, one fact sticks out.

"It was Scott Ellison," he tells the policemen. "He stabbed my brother."

"Ellison?" The younger office straightens his back. "How do you know?"

"Cal told me."

He turns over a page in his notebook. "What exactly did he say?"

The senior officer throws his colleague a disapproving look. "Dr Hardy, please start from the beginning."

"Um," Ethan says. He glances at Alicia and her encouraging nod spurs him on. "I treated Roy Ellison, Scott's dad, earlier today. I kicked them out of Resus, the whole family. Things had been getting a bit… tense. But I- I was unable to save him and before I had chance to tell them he'd died, they saw him on- on the table." Ethan takes a shaky breath. He feels exhausted just from the conversation. "Nobody should have to see that. And Scott, in particular, blamed me for their father's death."

"And _were_ you to blame?"

"Of course he wasn't!" Alicia interjects.

"Mr Ellison went into VF," Ethan says. "It's not always possible to revive a patient once they reach that stage." He closes his eyes and rubs at his forehead. "Actually, I- I really need to see my brother."

"I don't think they're ready for you yet," the younger officer reminds him. "It's best if we do this while you're waiting. The sooner we get the information, the sooner we can make the arrest."

"If justified," the senior adds, sternly.

"Right, yeah."

Ethan gives a single nod. His head hurts and he feels like he needs to rest, although he's sure sleep would never come. "Scott confronted me shortly after his father died. At first I thought he was just acting out of grief but Cal was uncomfortable with Scott hanging around the hospital and suggested that I leave." Ethan suddenly feels disgusted with himself and angles himself away from Alicia. Her hand falls from his leg. "I went to the pub," he says numbly.

There's silence in the room and Ethan's sure they're all falling to the same conclusion; that he was frolicking in the pub when he should have been looking after his big brother.

Clumsily, he pulls his phone from his pocket and dials the voicemail. "Then I received this."

The four of them stare at the phone as Cal's voice fills the room. It's even worse to hear his brother's agitated tones now Ethan understands the full meaning of the message. He clamps his fist to his mouth and hopes everyone is too distracted to notice him wiping away a stray tear.

"Then when I- when I found Cal," Ethan continues, "he, um, he asked me if I was okay. When I questioned why, he gave me Scott's name."

The policemen exchange a look before the older officer speaks. "Okay, we'll need your phone for evidence, but based on the information you've just given us, we can bring Mr Ellison in for questioning." He sighs "It doesn't mean we've got him, but it's a start."

"But he's dangerous," Alicia says. "He needs locking up!"

"We'll implement the necessary precautions to ensure no-one is subjected to any risk."

"Bit late for that," she mutters.

Ethan feels a shiver run through his body and even though he knows Alicia's right, he wishes she'd stop talking.

"Thank you for your time," he quietly interrupts. He staggers to his feet. "I- I really have to go."

* * *

He's visited the Intensive Care Unit before, when critical patients have needed a doctor to accompany their transfer, but nothing about it feels familiar. The beeping from machines pierces the exact spot where his head aches the most. The sterile smell makes him want to gag.

And as he follows the nurse through the maze of beds, his legs move stiffly, as if he's towards the end of a busy double shift rather after several hours sat waiting.

Then, when he sees Cal, his legs seem to seize up all together.

His big brother is swathed in bandages. The largest stretches across from one side his chest to the other, covering the long wound from his thoracotomy. Just above, on the left hand side, a large square bandage indicates exactly where the knife penetrated. Just below, a thin tube protrudes from Cal's skin. A final bandage creeps from the back of Cal's shoulder, protecting where the second, non-severe stab wound has been sutured. Amid the mass of bandages, Cal's chest is littered with purple bruises, some indistinct, others the shape of a fist.

"Cal?" Ethan ventures.

He manages a step closer.

"Caleb?"

Ethan clasps a hand to his mouth. His brother looks completely lifeless. His head is fixed back at an uncomfortable angle and his mouth is gagged by the equipment securing the ventilation tube. Aside from the jagged cut on his cheek, his face is pale and has the same grey tinge that Ethan associates with patients he's been unable to save.

Bile surges into his throat and he gulps it back down, trying to ignore the sour taste in his mouth.

He stumbles to the bedside chair. Now seated, he surveys the bed, from the blood transfusion hanging on the stand to the too-neat blanket laid over his brother's motionless legs. The ventilator hisses loudly as it breathes for Cal, and Ethan matches his own breaths to that pace.

Once calm, he leans forward and takes Cal's hand in his own. His brother's knuckles are swollen and there's no denying that Cal had thrown a few punches of his own.

"What happened, Caleb?" he whispers. He uses his other hand to softly trace an unbruised section of his brother's face. His skin is cold but it's an improvement from when Ethan had held him outside in the rain. "Why did you get involved?"

He knows his brother is far too heavily sedated to open his eyes, let alone answer, but he waits patiently, longing for some kind of sign that Cal heard him.

"It's my fault, isn't it?" A tear trickles down his cheek. "And I am _so_ sorry." He doesn't want to take his hands away from his brother to mop his face and so the tears run unabated. "But I _will_ put things right. And all you have to do is- is keeping fighting this. You have to get better." He takes a deep breath and a tear drips into his open mouth. "Because- because I don't know what I'd do without you." His body heaves as his sobbing intensifies. "I love you so much."

He finally crumples and releases his hold on his brother to bury his face in his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you everyone. I appreciate your feedback more than I can say and reading it really made me smile.

So, this chapter: I'm fully aware that Ethan wouldn't be allowed to spend all this time in ICU but it makes for a better story so please can we pretend they've made some allowances with Cal being one of their own? I hope this part is okay, I'm not 100% happy with the last section but please let me know what you think.

 **Bonnie Sveen Fan:** Ethan is definitely struggling with the enormity of what has happened to his brother but hopefully it'll be less heartbreaking than what actually happened in the show (hopefully that's not giving too many of my spoilers away haha). Thanks for reviewing.

 **tracys dream:** Thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you're still enjoying it and hope you continue to do so.

 **CBloom2:** There's a bit of a reaction from Ethan in this chapter in terms of what he does next but at the moment he's prioritising Cal. As am I haha. Hope you enjoy this chapter too, thank you for leaving a review.

 **bronny9:** It's really tough on Ethan but he's always been a great brother and that's not going to change. I have (hopefully) some nice supporting Cal stuff coming up in the next chapter. Thanks for reviewing.

 **casslourocks:** Thank you so much. I tried to mirror a few things so I'm pleased you picked up on that, however there are crucial changes to the episode which I'm sure you'll be happy about. With you there on wishing for a proper goodbye :'( or how about no goodbye and a happy ever after?

 **InfinityAndOne:** Thank you for leaving such a kind review, especially the powerful writing bit. Glad you prefer this version, I just wish I could make it real. I hope you enjoy this part too.

* * *

3.

* * *

Ethan slams his book shut and tosses into his bag in a careless manner that he's never been guilty of before. He groans as loudly as he dares. He supposes he gave it his best shot, but the book hadn't served as the distraction he'd planned, having been unable to finish even a short paragraph without his attention wandering to the occupant of the bed.

Ethan reassigns his reading to Cal's medical records. It's a habit he's been trying to break for the past few days; reviewing scribbled observations and dosages neither help his brother nor himself. He scans the page, nodding his approval that there have been mild improvements to Cal's condition.

He slots the file back in its holder at the end of the bed and turns back to his brother. There's a bit more colour in Cal's cheeks now but he remains far too still, the only sign of life being the steady rise and fall of his chest. More bruises have surfaced since he was first admitted and his skin is now a multitude of shades.

The long bandage across his chest is starkly white but yesterday crimson spots had stained the dressing and Ethan's apprehensive that the bleeding will occur again. He grimaces as he recalls the appearance of the wound, a raw, red line that stretched the width of Cal's chest, held together by a mass of ugly stitches. He knows his brother will hate the scar when he wakes up.

 _When_ he wakes up.

As Ethan realises it's the first time he's allowed himself to think of it as a definite, a scarce smile creeps onto his face. He leans forwards and takes his brother's hand in his own. "Everything's going to be okay, Cal," he whispers. "I promise."

But he struggles to maintain his smile for long. He knows it's selfish to want his brother awake when consciousness will bring Cal a torrent of pain and fear. His eyes sting at the thought of what his brother has to go through, but after days spent crying, there are no tears left to fall.

"I'll be with you every step of the way." Even though Cal can't see him he gives a decisive nod. "I love you and I'm not going anywhere, so please don't be scared or-"

Ethan jumps as he feels a presence behind him and his sentence falters. He turns to see Charlie, his forehead creased as he observes Cal's condition, and his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Ethan thinks the nurse suddenly seems to look older than ever.

His cheeks flush as he realises his monologue must have been overheard. "I thought it was relatives only," he says softly.

"When you've worked here as long as I have you get some privileges," Charlie replies. "Or you learn whose arm you can twist anyway."

Ethan musters a courteous smile before turning back to his brother.

Charlie clears his throat. "How's he doing?"

"Um," Ethan says. "Okay. All things considered. They, um, they're hoping to start reducing his sedation tomorrow as long as there's no further complications."

"That's great," Charlie replies in a tone that sounds forcibly positive. "Well, Cal's a fighter."

Ethan quashes his retort that fighting was what got his brother in the mess in the first place.

"And you?" the nurse asks. "How are you holding up?"

Ethan pauses for a moment as he considers. The he wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. "It doesn't matter how I'm doing, Charlie."

"It does to me."

"Worry about Cal."

"You know, I am capable of worrying about more than one person at once." Charlie pauses and Ethan can hear him take a heavy breath. "We're all here for you," he continues. "For both of you."

"I appreciate it," he replies, quietly. "I just want to be with my brother right now."

Charlie seems to take the hint as he takes a step closer to the bed and lays a hand on Cal's bare shoulder. "Get better soon, mate," he says. "We're all thinking of you." He turns to face Ethan. "If there's anything you-"

Ethan's preparing a polite acceptance that he knows he'll never act upon, when Charlie's sentence grinds to a halt. Ethan follows his colleague's gaze, to the door to ICU where two police officers are talking to a nurse but looking his way.

He spins back to Charlie, his heart hammering against his chest. "Could you, um, could you possibly stay with him while I..?"

"Of course."

Ethan throws a last desperate look at his brother then hastens towards the door. He recognises the officers as the same two he'd spoken to a few days ago and looks towards the younger, more empathetic one questioningly.

He nods a greeting but doesn't quite meet Ethan's eyes. "Let's go somewhere private."

The small meeting room is a few corridors away and further from Cal then Ethan is comfortable with. Thanks to the bond Charlie has with his brother, Ethan trusts him more he would most of his colleagues, but he's certain Charlie's voice won't be as much comfort Cal as his own.

He follows the policemen's lead and takes a seat but it's largely because exhaustion is seeping through his bones and standing up feels much harder than it should.

"What is it?" he asks.

Silently, the older officer pulls a mobile phone out of his bag and slides it across the table to Ethan.

Ethan presses the home button but nothing happens, the battery completely dead. "Um," he says, "I assume you've not come all the way here just to return my phone."

"We released Scott Ellison last night," the younger of the two men says.

It feels as if someone has stolen his breath. He recoils. "You- you- _why_?"

"The judge only granted us 48 hours to hold him in custody. There wasn't enough evidence to charge him, so by law we had to let him go."

"Evidence?" Ethan shakes his head. "Sorry, he nearly _killed_ my brother, what more evidence could you possibly need?"

The older officer exhales deeply as if Ethan's questions are a nuisance. "That voicemail of yours only proves that your brother had concerns about Ellison's behaviour," he explains. "It doesn't confirm they were justified. It doesn't confirm there was any kind of altercation between the two of them."

"But- but there must be marks on Scott from where he hit my brother and from where… from where Cal hit him back," Ethan says. He notices the policemen exchange a look and he rubs at his forehead as he tries to work out why.

The younger officer leans forwards. "Ellison does have bruises to his face as well as split knuckles. He claims these were caused during a fight with his younger brother. His brother has corroborated the story."

"He's lying!"

"He has the facial injuries to match."

Ethan's shoulders slump. There's no doubt in his mind that it was Scott Ellison who hurt Cal, but his stomach churns as he realises how cunning the family are and how hard it is going to be to convict him.

"So what happens next?" he asks. "I mean, when Cal wakes up, he'll confirm it was Scott. Then you can arrest him. Right?"

"A victim statement would go some way towards conviction. But it would still be one word against another. Ideally we need something concrete."

"Such as?"

"CCTV footage, an independent eyewitness, the inflicting weapon, DNA…" the older officer chimes in, sounding bored.

Ethan places his hands over his eyes and digs his fingers into the sockets. His eyes are burning and it's too much effort to distinguish whether it's from emotion or fatigue.

"Scott did it," he says. He looks directly at the older policeman. "Yet he's left free to roam around wherever he likes while my big brother is trapped in a hospital bed, on life support, with a long and painful recovery ahead of him. How is that fair?"

The officer gives him a measured nod. He doesn't look at all fazed by Ethan's outburst. "Do you have any concerns about your safety that you'd like to raise with us while we're here?"

"Don't you get it?!" Ethan slams his hand on the table. "I don't care about any of that. I just want you to catch the person who did this to my brother and make sure he pays."

Ethan's summoned enough adrenaline to storm out of the room and back to ICU but by the time he reaches Cal, he's panting for breath. Charlie's in the sole seat so he collapses on the side of the bed. While his head is still pounding with hot anger from the news, he grabs both of Cal's hands and lifts them slightly from the mattress, squeezing them tight.

"Caleb, I need you to wake up now," he demands. He waits barely a second. "Cal." He unleashes a howl of frustration as he slams his brother's hands back on the bed. "I can't do this," he snaps. "I can't- I can't-"

As he takes a shuddering breath, he feels a hand flat against his back. Charlie exerts barely any pressure but it's enough of a presence for Ethan to gasp his way back to composure.

"Ethan, what happened?" the nurse asks in his usual calm tone.

"They- they released him."

Charlie groans. "What's their reasoning?"

"Insufficient evidence," Ethan spits. "I know it was him, Charlie." The anger suddenly drains out of him and it's a struggle to hold his head upright. "I just-" he says. "I wanted him locked up now so that when Cal comes round he'll feel safe."

"That won't change," Charlie says. "He'll feel safe because he's with you."

* * *

Ethan can't take his eyes off his brother. He's lost track of how long it's been since the doctor withdrew the last of his sedation but it feels like hours. Even with his glasses in their rightful place, he squints, every ounce of concentration inspecting any signs that Cal is regaining consciousness.

He feels queasy with nervous excitement. He's not sure what to expect when Cal wakes. He's desperate to see his brother but the thought of Cal waking to pain makes his eyes prickle with tears.

Eventually, he begins to see some movement behind Cal's closed eyelids. His brother's eyes flicker but close again instantly.

Ethan jumps to his feet as he shouts out for help. He leans over his brother and places a gentle hand on the far side of Cal's face. "Cal? Caleb? I'm here. It's okay." He doesn't blink as he watches his brother. Cal's eyes are fluttering but he's far from alert. "Open your eyes for me."

"Cal?" A doctor joins him at the bedside, followed by two nurses.

Ethan is forced to step back while the doctor checks Cal's vitals and shines a torch in his eyes. He runs a hand over the back of his head and holds his breath. His brother scrunches his eyes at the bright light and it's the best thing Ethan has seen in days.

He wriggles his way back to his brother and places his hands on his brother's arm. "Cal, I'm right here."

"Cal, try to open your eyes," the doctor says.

Cal's eyes remain closed but a quiet whimper emanates from his throat. The noise sends an ache through Ethan's chest so intense that he thinks his knees might buckle. He clings a little harder onto his brother's shoulder and uses his other hand to gently stroke the lower half of Cal's arm.

And then, Cal's eyes slowly open. For a moment nothing happens, he stares blankly at the ceiling as if he no longer knows how to use his eyes.

"Cal."

His brother's eyes swivel to his and when their gaze meets, Cal's eyes immediately cloud with tears. Ethan blinks furiously to prevent his own doing the same.

"It's okay, it's okay," Ethan soothes.

Cal whimpers again. His fingers flex and so Ethan takes his hand a gives it a soft squeeze. He's rewarded when his brother's fingers tighten around his own.

"Everything's going to be okay, Cal."

Cal looks at him and Ethan's sure his brother's trying to project some kind of deeper meaning into the gaze. He shakes his head in confusion. Then there's a murmuring in Cal's throat that turns into a deep moan.

"No, no, don't try to speak," Ethan urges.

But Cal's eyes widen in panic and there's a horrible chocking noise as he fights against the obstruction down his throat. Cal lifts the hand that Ethan's not holding and moves it towards his mouth. Ethan leans over to grab it before Cal can pull at the tube but one of the nurses gets there first.

"Try to stay calm, Cal," the doctor says. "You're breathing for yourself now so we'll be able to remove the tube shortly."

Ethan knows from the creases across his brother's forehead that he's battling hard to keep himself together. "You're doing really well," he tells his brother.

Cal looks up at him and Ethan can see the pain in his eyes.

"Okay, I think we're ready," the doctor announces. "Cal, you may feel some discomfort while we extubate but it will only take a couple of minutes. I need you to keep listening to me and when I say cough, I'll need you to cough, okay?"

Ethan watches intently as the nurse removes the strap holding the ventilation tube in place. Without it, Cal immediately looks a little more himself. But then the nurse begins to apply suction down the tube and Cal scrunches his eyes shut.

When the nurse moves the machine into his mouth, Cal shudders and Ethan can feel the sharp of his nails as his brother's hand grasps at his own.

"All clear," the nurse says.

"Right, deflate the cuff," the doctor tells her. "Okay, Cal, give us a cough."

Ethan bites his lip as Cal's attempt at a cough sounds like nothing more than a heavy sigh and his chest barely moves.

The doctor doesn't seem fazed. "And again," he says.

Cal frowns as if mustering a cough requires deep concentration. But this time his efforts are more effective and the doctor begins to glide the tube out of Cal's trachea.

Cal splutters as the procedure is completed and as his breaths fall in gasps, an oxygen mask is placed over his mouth. A thin sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead.

Ethan squeezes his brother's hand. "Welcome back."

Cal's head rolls to face him. "Eth-an," he rasps.

"Hey," Ethan murmurs.

Beneath the oxygen mask Cal's lips quiver as if he wants to say something but can't summon the energy.

"It's okay," Ethan says. "Just rest for now. We'll talk later."

Cal gives a weak nod but his eyes are damp again and Ethan reaches out to brush an escaped tear from his brother's face.

"Cal," the doctor interrupts. His voice is quiet but firm. "You've had a tough few days, I need you to keep calm and still while your body adjusts to being awake." The doctor falls silent as he checks the monitors and scribbles some notes. "On a scale of one to ten how bad is your pain?"

"Eight," Cal whispers. His voice is agonisingly hoarse.

"Okay, another 1.5 of morphine, please," the doctor instructs. "Cal, do you remember why you're here?"

A shiver runs through Ethan's body. He watches as his brother tilts his chin forwards enough to examine the state of his chest. His eyes flicker to Ethan and then back to his bare chest, shrouded with a mass of dressings.

"Yeah," Cal croaks.

"Well, you're safe now. I'll talk you through your treatment once you're not so drowsy but right now it's important you get some rest." He glances at Ethan. "Don't keep him awake for long."

Dimly, Ethan's offended that the doctor is assuming he'll act against his brother's best interests, but he's more focused on Cal. He strokes his brother's hair and hopes it does something to soothe him.

"It's so good to have you back," he says.

"You- okay?"

"I'm fine, Cal, don't worry about me." The reassuring smile comes a lot easier to him now than it had prior to Cal being extubated. "How are you feeling?"

Cal's half-closed eyelids prove enough of an answer.

"Try to get some sleep," Ethan says.

"Stay?"

"Yeah, I'm staying right here with you."

Cal manages a quiet hum in response but there's only a moment before his breathing slows and Ethan knows his brother has drifted off into a natural sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm so sorry for the wait for this chapter, I wanted to have it up ages ago. Actually, I wanted the whole story finished before this weekend but in hindsight that was a little ambitious! I feel like I've only had the odd hour here or there to write recently and I'm such a slow writer that I can barely get through a paragraph in that time. Anyway, this is finally finished, and could probably do with another edit towards the end but I wanted to post so all I can do is apologise if it's a let down.

Thank you all for your support with this story and I'd really love and appreciate some more reviews. I am planning on two more chapters after this one.

 **bronny9:** Thank you so much. If you like supportive Ethan (who doesn't?) then I hope you enjoy this chapter as I've tried to include a lot of it. Really appreciate your support.

 **Anonymouse:** I wish it too! Anything to keep Cal alive! I'm glad if this story is helping soothe the pain of losing Cal at all - writing it is definitely helping but I'm worried what will happen when I finish and have to deal with the reality (reality! need to remind myself this is a TV show haha). Thank you so much for reviewing and your kind words.

 **tracys dream:** Thanks for reviewing, really pleased that you enjoyed it and hope you continue to do so.

 **silvermoongirl10:** Thank you for your review. I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I love the protectiveness between them in both directions and hopefully this chapter has a little bit of each for you.

 **casslourocks:** Me too! They still could have had the drama of Cal being stabbed but then recovering and perhaps wanting a fresh start away from somewhere, therefore leaving the show but still being alive. But anyway, I'll try not to get too distracted, thank you so much for reviewing. I'm pleased you liked the chapter and of course a bit of vulnerable Cal. I think they're both vulnerable in their own ways, but whenever one of them is struggling I do love to see the other go all protective. Hope you like this chapter too.

* * *

4.

* * *

Ethan wakes with a start. In the split second it takes to remember he's sprawled on an uncomfortable chair in ICU, he also realises someone is weakly shaking his knee. His mind races to his brother and in a panic he sits forward, nearly overbalancing off the chair.

"Cal? What's wrong?"

"It hurts."

Ethan allows himself to exhale. Although he hates to see his brother in pain, it's a relief that it's nothing more threatening. "Oh, Cal," he says.

Cal's eyebrows are furrowed and Ethan can see that he's not far from tears. Despite that, his brother looks a little healthier already. A nasal cannula has replaced the oxygen mask and a hospital gown hides his bruised and bandaged chest.

"There's not much I can do," Ethan says, desperately, "it's because the sedation has completely worn off now."

"I know that," Cal growls. His voice remains hoarse from the intubation. He tilts his head back on the pillow and breathes deeply as he tries to fight the pain but a small moan slips out.

Ethan's chest pangs in sympathy for his brother. "You'll start to feel better soon. It's less than 24 hours since you came round."

Cal's bottom lip trembles. "Ethan, what if I can't do this?"

"You can." He swallows the urge to tell his brother he has no choice but to battle through the toughest parts of his recovery. "Come on, take my hand, squeeze it every time the pain's at its worst."

Cal shoots him with a look that says that the idea will never work, but when Ethan grasps his hand and gives it a reassuring stroke with his thumb, Cal's grip immediately tightens.

"Sorry for waking you," Cal croaks. "Didn't know what else to do."

Ethan shakes his head. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, okay? I told you, anything you need."

"Drink? My throat."

Ethan half fills the plastic glass with water and selects a fresh straw from the few a nurse left beside the jug. He shuffles closer to his brother and positions a hand at the base of his neck. He helps Cal lift his head far forward enough to catch the straw between his lips. The weight against his hands demonstrates how weak his brother is.

Cal manages a couple of sips before turning his head to the side. "Okay."

Ethan returns the glass and lowers his brother back to the bed.

Cal tries to manoeuvre himself into a more comfortable position but the action causes him to cry out in pain. He reaches for Ethan and locks their fingers together. "Can't even move," he whimpers.

"Where does it hurt the most?"

"Everywhere! My chest." Cal scrunches his eyes shut.

Ethan frowns. He knows there's a large chance he's being paranoid but he'll never forgive himself if something else happens to his brother on his watch. "Can I check?"

Cal grunts his consent, his eyes still tightly closed.

He holds his breath as he unknots Cal's gown and spreads the garment open, preparing to see the unwelcome sight of red spotting on the bandages. But, although the injuries still look as painful as ever, there is no fresh bleeding.

"You're okay," he tells his brother. He struggles to take his gaze of the various shades of Cal's chest, the multiple dressings, the protruding tube and numerous wires.

"I'm a mess, aren't I?"

Even though Cal spoke quietly, Ethan jumps. He looks up to see his brother staring at him. "No, no-" Ethan begins.

"You're a terrible liar." Cal gives him a sad smile.

"You're less of a mess than you were."

Cal groans as another bout of pain hits him. "Who did the thoracotomy?"

"Dylan." Ethan supresses a shudder as he recalls the moment the doctor carved across his big brother's chest. He owes it to Dylan to ensure Cal knows he was responsible for saving him, but his jaw sticks firm, unable to vocalise the words and remember how close Cal had come to losing his life. He sniffs as quietly as he can and stares at the gown as he folds it back over Cal's chest and secures the tie.

"And was it… simple… to fix the tear?"

"Caleb, you don't-" Ethan stutters to a halt as he registers the tremor in his voice. "You don't need to worry about that."

Cal fixes him with a pleading look. "Just tell me."

Ethan's stomach churns. "No, it wasn't simple." He scrutinises his brother's face for a reaction and sees the tell-tale twitch of a muscle in his jaw. "Cal, listen," he says, softly. "These questions aren't going to help. You should focus on getting well again, not- not what happened." _Leave that bit to me_ , he adds silently.

Cal rolls his head to face the opposite direction and doesn't reply.

Ethan's shoulders slump at the sight of his brother's despondency. It's impossible to know how much of the attack Cal remembers without asking probing questions that Ethan's not sure he's ready to have answered. Yet, he witnessed enough to be able to imagine what's playing in his brother's mind. He trusts the medicine to heal Cal's body but knows no drug can fix the psychological trauma.

He makes the most of Cal looking away to wipe a hand across his bleary eyes. If he could take the pain from his brother he would do so without question. And that would be the case even if the blame didn't lie with him. But, even though Cal's still too vulnerable for them to have had the conversation, he knows his brother got stabbed protecting him and that means he's duty bound to put things right. He stares at his brother as he tries to work out how.

But then Cal's head sags on the pillow and Ethan can't ignore the signs of exhaustion spreading across his brother's face any longer. "You need to get some sleep," he says.

"I can't."

Cal slowly turns his head back to face him and Ethan can see that the tip of his nose is pink, a sure sign that he's been stifling tears. He almost wishes his brother would succumb to it rather than adding an unnecessarily battle to the many he's already fighting.

"Shall I ask if they can give you anything to help you drift off?"

"No more sedatives."

"Something for the pain?"

Cal hesitates but then gives a slight nod as if he's ashamed to be agreeing.

Ethan stands to go to find a doctor, but before he moves away from the bed he turns back to face his brother. He considers taking his hand again but Cal's eyes are already half shut and he doesn't want to alarm him. Instead, he attempts a smile and lowers his voice to a whisper. "I've got you, you know."

"I know." Cal manages a fatigued mumble. "Thanks, bro."

* * *

Ethan watches intently as the nurse completes her observations on a sleeping Cal. He's been checking the monitors himself but is terrified he's missed something and that she will suddenly discover a deterioration in Cal's condition that's happened while he's been present.

Once she's copied the figures from the monitor onto Cal's record sheet, she undoes his gown and inspects the dressings to ensure that his brother's not bleeding through his stitches. Although the bandages are clean, the one covering the thoracotomy wound is beginning to peel at the corners. Ethan's eyes shoot expectantly from the dressing back to the nurse.

She meets his gaze calmly. "I'm going to leave it a little longer before changing the dressing," she tells him. "It's not urgent and at the moment it's more important he rests. However gentle I am, he'll wake up if I start peeling that off."

Ethan nods. He knows he should thank her for taking care of his brother but it's a struggle even to keep his head upright and he doesn't have the energy to waste on unessential words.

As if knowing what he's thinking, she smiles softly. "He's doing well. If you want to pop home for a break… or some sleep, he will be okay."

"I'd rather be here. But thanks."

"Okay." She re-ties Cal's gown loosely enough not to disturb him and scribbles a note onto his records. "But please don't feel guilty for needing to take care of yourself."

Ethan frowns. He looks down, momentarily forgetting his vow not to take his eyes off his brother. He silently tells her the truth; he has much more to feel guilty for than the desire to get some sleep. But when he looks back up, she continues her work, oblivious to his confession as she checks the amount of fluid left in the saline drip.

A small mumble slips from Cal's mouth and Ethan swings back to his brother. At the sight of Cal still prone and fast asleep, he frowns, wondering whether his level of exhaustion had hit the point where he's started to hear things.

The nurse lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You'd be surprised by the amount of people who talk in their sleep."

Ethan gives a weak chuckle at his own stupidity. Even in good health, Cal had always been a noisy sleeper.

"I'll be back in an hour for his next obs," she continues. "But _please_ , try not to fret. It's early days as you know, but all indications are positive."

Ethan manages a tight lipped smile but his gaze remains fixed on his brother as she leaves.

After a while, Ethan notices that Cal's eyes are moving beneath his closed eyelids and even though he's still sleeping, he's flinching. He rests his elbows on his knees so that he's closer to his brother. The proximity allows him to hear that the quiet huffs and high pitched groans that are interspersed with Cal's breaths. A glance at the monitor reveals a slight rise in his heartrate. Ethan knows it's not significant enough to alert a doctor but it increases his certainty that his brother is in the throes of a nightmare.

His hand twitches towards his brother, his heart hammering with the desperation to wake him and relieve him from his dream. But as a doctor he knows the risks of waking someone with Cal's injuries in case he panics and causes himself harm. Ethan's hand clenches into a fist and falls uselessly onto his lap. He drives the fist into his leg, pushing hard, wanting to share some of his brother's pain. But it does nothing; Cal's face continues to twitch in fear, and Ethan slumps forward, his body feeling unnaturally heavy.

A gasp comes from Cal that is so loud that Ethan jumps. Cal reaches consciousness with several shaky breaths and he blinks repeatedly as he starts to register his surroundings.

"Cal. It's okay, you're in hospital, remember?"

"Ethan?" Cal slurs, his eyes disorientated from sleep.

"I'm here."

Cal continues to breathe heavily. "Ethan. I thought you- I thought…" his sentence trails off as he squints up at him and the creases on his forehead gradually fade. "Never mind."

"What were you dreaming?"

Cal doesn't reply but rolls his head so it's flat on the pillow rather than angled towards him. His body slumps with exhaustion.

"Can I get you anything?"

There's no response.

"Cal?"

Cal shakes his head but remains mute. Ethan can see that his brother's swallowing furiously, his forehead creased and lips pursed.

"It was just a nightmare," Ethan says. He tries to think how their mum comforted them as children but all he can remember is her reassuring them that it wasn't real, and he can hardly say the same when Cal has the injuries to prove otherwise. "You're safe now," he offers instead. "It's over. You're safe."

Cal's eyes trail towards him but there's an emotion in them that Ethan can't read and that scares him.

"Cal, please talk to me."

Cal's mouth opens and Ethan's chest surges with anticipation. But his brother's lips flap wildly before he clamps them shut again and shakes his head in despair. He squeezes his eyes shut but not before a tear overflows and trickles down his cheek.

Cal lifts his arm to hide his eyes but the movement aggravates the wound on his chest and causes him to cry out. The pain seems to push him over the edge and as his arm flops back to his side, he makes no further efforts to disguise the flow of tears as he sobs.

As watches his big brother fall apart, Ethan's own eyes sting. He sneaks a finger beneath his glasses to plug his eye as he blinks. He won't allow himself to cry now, not when his brother is seriously ill and in need of his support.

Cal trembles as he cries and Ethan longs to wrap his arms around his brother and hold him until he stops. But his injuries are still too fresh for a hug to be anything other than painful and so Ethan shifts himself onto the edge of the bed and makes do with resting a hand on the side of his brother's face, using his thumb to softly brush away a tear.

"Sorry," Cal splutters. He frowns determinedly at the opposite side of the bed to Ethan.

"Let it all out."

"Just… hurts."

"I know." Ethan shifts his face into his brother's eye line hoping to project that he really does understand. It's not just the physical pain that Cal's talking about but then pain of coming to terms with that fact that he nearly died and that someone else tried to take his life.

Cal scrunches his eyes shut and clenches his jaw but his attempts do nothing to quell the shaking or the dampness on his cheeks. Ethan sees his brother's fingers desperately clutching at the mattress and so joins their hands together. Cal takes a shuddering breath and his body relaxes a little. After a few moments he opens his eyes and even though they are swollen, he manages to hold Ethan's gaze.

"Caleb-"

"Uh, the police?" Cal chokes out.

"The doctor told them you aren't well enough to make a statement yet." He frowns at the direction of the conversation. "I can call them if you want?"

Cal doesn't reply immediately. He sniffs loudly and licks away a tear that has reached his mouth. "I- I dunno," he finally manages.

Ethan nods but he can feel the emotion surging through his body and has to bite firmly on the inside of his lip to stop himself crying. The thought of Scott roaming free still fills him with nausea. Yet, while he's desperate to get him locked behind bars, he doesn't want to torture Cal by making him relive his ordeal.

He takes Cal's second hand in his and his brother looks up in alarm.

"What is it?" Cal asks.

"I, um- I told the police it was Scott Ellison."

Cal visibly blanches and his face turns void of any expression.

Ethan feels sick. "They didn't believe me."

Cal remains frozen but another stream of tears spill onto his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Ethan says. He squeezes his brother's hands but gets no movement in response. He gulps furiously, trying not to cry. "Cal, I- It will be okay, just, they need some evidence, they said."

"He- he's free?"

Ethan shuts his eyes and nods.

The silence is filled with the sound of Cal's monitor as it beeps at the same time as his heart.

"I'll do it," Cal eventually says, his voice barely audible. "I want to speak to them. But… alone."

Ethan's body sags. "Cal, please."

"Ethan, I don't want you to hear."

Ethan's chest aches as he interprets what his brother is saying. Cal blames him too. And, while Cal has every right to blame him, his decision to speak to the police without him is giving him something else to feel guilty for.

He tries to wriggle his fingers out of Cal's grip. He shakes his head, telling himself it was a stupid idea to comfort his big brother that way. Of course Cal doesn't want him around. He was virtually the one who hospitalised him. But as he tries to pull away, Cal's hold grows surprisingly tight.

"Where are you going?" he asks, sounding panicked.

"Um," Ethan says.

"Please stay." Cal's eyes are wide. His cheeks are blotchy and his nose and lips are swollen, making the oxygen tube look even more uncomfortable than it did before.

Ethan takes a deep breath and shuffles further onto the bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Anyone else sob all the way through Cal's funeral? I was a mess. But hopefully this dose of denial will help.

This chapter and the next were originally meant to be one, but it would have ended being obscenely long so I've split it, meaning this chapter has ended up being a bit of a filler, sorry. Grand total of chapters will now be 7.

Also, if I've done a decent enough job, it should be obvious, but in case it's not, time is moving on between all the different segments within this. If I had more time and ability I'd write a much longer, more detailed fic, but as it is I'm just writing snapshots.

Thank you everyone for your comments and supports, I hope you continue to enjoy reading this. Reviews are loved and always appreciated.

 **tracys dream:** Thank you for reviewing. I'm glad the emotions came through as I really wanted to show both the physical and mental distress Cal was in during those first few days after he woke up.

 **bronny9:** Really kind of you to say it was well written. I think you're spot on. Cal obviously needs a lot of support but Ethan has been through a lot too and may be less inclined to accept any support, especially as he feels guilty. It does go both ways though and more of that will be explored in upcoming chapters.

 **Jynx999:** I really wanted to show the psychological side as well so I'm pleased that worked. It must be a lot for someone to get their head around, knowing they were nearly murdered! I'm glad you're enjoying this and thank you so much for leaving a review.

 **casslourocks:** That's so kind of you to say. Honestly, it means a lot, thank you. I'm just glad the emotions came through because there was so many of them going on in my head haha. Hope you enjoy this chapter too.

 **Nettiethecarrot:** Thank you so much. I wish this happened too! Think I'm still in a bit of shock over Cal to be honest. Hope you continue to enjoy reading.

* * *

5.

* * *

Ethan swerves into the first parking spot he finds and neglects to manoeuvre the car into a straighter position. He yanks the handbrake and takes a desperate look at his watch, hoping he's somehow read it wrong every other time he's checked. But the hands do nothing to appease him and he groans loudly as he jumps out of the car.

He grabs Cal's gym bag from the boot. The zip looks like it's about to burst and reveal the mass of items he'd hastily shoved in there without his usual care to protect the neat folds. He's concerned but only at the prospect of a further delay if the contents spill out onto the carpark.

In the time it takes for the lift to elevate him from ground floor to the ward, he begins to sway with exhaustion. Although he slept in, it's the first time since Cal's attack that he's managed more than an occasional hour sleep and the majority of those were on the uncomfortable chair at his brother's bedside. He yawns. The night's sleep has done nothing to rejuvenate him but made him late both for his brother and his first shift back at work. When the lift door opens, he crosses the path of a member of staff carrying a coffee and he sniffs longingly in its direction.

Ethan doesn't think he'll ever manage to walk past ICU without being hit by relief that Cal is no longer a patient in there. From the corridor, he can taste the sterile atmosphere and hear the steady bleeping of machines. He chances a glance through the window and automatically pictures his brother in one of those beds, sedated, ventilated and barely alive. He shudders at the memory.

He hurries down the corridor. One of the nurses, who he suspects has developed a soft spot for Cal, managed to secure him his own room rather than being on the ward and Ethan's not sure who's more grateful for this, him or Cal.

He bursts through the door and the gym bag slips from his shoulder and crashes to the floor.

"Oh crumbs," he says. He drops to his knees and begins to rummage through the bag, checking for breakages.

"Quite an entrance," Cal says. His tone sounds grumpy but when Ethan looks up, there's the trace of amusement on his lips.

"Sorry, hello," he says. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Bored. Sore."

Ethan can take from the wobble in his brother's voice that he's only verbalising the surface of whatever's going on in his head. He inspects his brother's appearance for any signs of deterioration. Cal's sprawled on the bed with a hospital gown on top of his own grey joggers, still hooked up to various machines and tubes but not as deathly pale as he had been. The cut on his cheek is beginning to heal beneath the steri-strips and Cal's eyes, though still heavy, seem to have a little more sparkle.

"Well, hopefully I can help with one of those predicaments." Ethan says. "I tried to get your laptop fixed but you're right, it won't work. Something to do with water damage, apparently?"

"Ugh, yeah," Cal picks at the plaster holding his IV line in place. "There may have been an incident with a beer."

"So, you can borrow mine." Ethan retrieves his laptop from the bottom of the bag, relieved it still seems to be in one piece. "I _think_ I've signed out of all my accounts but if you find anything I forgot, please go easy on me."

"I know all your passwords," Cal says.

"You don't."

Cal musters a genuine smile. "Thanks, bro. You sure? What will you use?"

"I'll manage without. I'll be at work the majority of the time anyway." He checks his watch and groans. "Actually, I'm due there now."

"What, now?" Although Cal makes a valiant attempt at hiding his upset, Ethan doesn't miss the tremble in his chin as the grin disappears from his face. "Can't you stay? The nurse is taking my chest drain out soon."

Guilt stirs in Ethan's stomach. "Cal, Mrs Beauchamp-"

"Come on, you won't get in trouble, this is you! You could get away with murder!"

Ethan's stomach constricts. By the look on Cal's face, his did exactly the same.

"It's just a phrase," Cal mumbles, but he still looks shaken.

Ethan nods. He squints at the monitor but struggles to pay attention to any of the figures. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices his brother take a forcefully deep breath.

"So you'll stay, yeah?"

"I-" Ethan begins. He knows he has already been pushing his boss's generosity with the amount of time he's taken off to look after Cal, but he doesn't have it in him to deny his brother the support he needs. "Okay."

Cal gifts him with another smile. "So what else is in the bag?"

Ethan plonks the bag by Cal's feet. "DVDs," he says, showing Cal a couple of the comedies he'd selected instead of Cal's customary action films. "Um, that book you've been working your way through. Few more clothes in case they allow you out of the gown soon." He rummages further through the bag. "Toothbrush. Deodorant. Shaving foam. Oh and I know it's a terrible cliché but, now that you're back on solids, some grapes."

"Thanks," Cal says, with little enthusiasm.

"Did I forget anything?"

Cal shakes his head.

"Good," Ethan says, even though he's not sure it is. "I'll leave the shaving foam out; might give one of the HCAs a hint, that's unless you're actually _trying_ to grow a beard."

Cal runs his fingers along the line of stubble on his jaw. "I'll do it myself."

Ethan's lips part as he debates how best to break it to his brother that he's not quite mobile enough to be trusted with a razor, but he's saved by the entrance of two nurses, the latter of whom is struggling to steer a trolley.

"Ready?" the first nurse asks.

Cal gives a resolute nod, but Ethan notices his eyes darting nervously around the room.

"My brother wants to stay," Cal tells the nurse.

She smiles at Ethan but it's only a fleeting acknowledgement before she turns her focus back to Cal and starts to help him out of the gown. "You're on a high dose of pain relief already so that should minimise any soreness but we'll still numb the area, okay?"

Cal presses his lips together but manages another nod.

Once Cal's chest is bare, the nurse removes the dressing and exposes the area where the chest tube penetrates his body. The area looks slightly swollen and mottled with bruises and as she cleans it with an antibacterial wipe Cal hisses at the contact. The nurse murmurs a soothing apology before turning to her colleague with a nod. The second nurse hands her a syringe and she smoothly slides the needle into Cal's red skin.

"Right, we'll give it a few minutes for the anaesthetic to kick in and then we'll be back to remove the drain." She faces Ethan. "He mustn't move, okay?"

Ethan nods. He waits for them to leave before turning back to his brother. He can just about detect a slight shiver running through Cal's body but knows better than to comment on it.

"What does she expect, me to start running down the ward?"

Although Ethan's instinct is to rebuke his brother, he falters mid-word and decides on an alternative approach. "I'd rather you didn't," he says. "I'm still awaiting my morning coffee; couldn't possibly chase after you."

Cal's mouth twitches but he eventually manages a small huff of amusement and changes the subject. "I hear Lily was discharged yesterday."

At the sound of his friend's name, Ethan sinks onto a chair. He's not visited her at all, having been far too preoccupied by his brother's bedside and the additional guilt weighs his body down. "Really? That seems quick."

"Yeah, well, she had a good ED doctor, didn't she?"

Ethan chuckles but largely he's just relieved at the sign his brother's cockiness is returning. "How did you find that out?"

"She came to see me as she was leaving."

"She visited? How is she?"

Cal considers. "It's Lily, isn't it. She said she was fine but I can't crack that impenetrable mind of hers! I think she was just pleased to be going home." He wriggles to examine the tube sticking out of his chest. "Know I would be," he adds, darkly.

"Stay still!" Ethan says.

Cal scowls at him and Ethan offers a sympathetic smile in return. Despite the improvements in his condition, he knows that Cal needs to remain in hospital for at least another few weeks and he suspects his brother is as acutely aware as he is and already feeling the strain.

"Anyway," Cal continues. "You'll be pleased to know we apologised to each other and agreed to put our differences to the side."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, well, we both said some nasty things. But then we both… got hurt…" He hesitates. "Life's too short."

Ethan's gaze drops to the battered remains of Cal's chest. The blues and browns of bruises are still a stark contrast to the white of the dressings and prominent ribs have replaced what was once muscle. "You don't need to tell me," he says.

Their eyes lock but neither of them speaks.

The silence is broken by the return of the nurses. Their fixed smiles evoke enough curtsey in Ethan for him to greet them rather than prolonging the sombre mood.

The more senior nurse snaps her rubber gloves on and gently presses around the entry point of the drain. "Can you feel any pain?"

"It's numb," Cal tells her.

"Then we're almost ready," she says. "We'll need you flat for this."

As Cal is lowered onto his back, Ethan moves closer to the bed so that he remains within his brother's eye line. But apart from a quick scan to check he's still there, Cal stares determinedly at the ceiling.

"I've disconnected the chamber," the nurse narrates. "I'm going to start cutting the stitches."

Ethan cranes his neck to check she's gentle as she trims through the sutures. He's relatively pleased with her work until she looks up to give him a reassuring smile and he wants to snap at her to keep her eyes on what she's doing.

The scissors clatter as she places them back on the tray. "Okay. Cal, there might be some discomfort as we remove the tube but it will only take a few seconds and you'll feel much better afterwards, I promise."

Cal's jaw is clenched but he manages a grunt alongside his customary nod.

"I need you take a deep breath and hold it until I say. Can you do that for me?"

By means of replying, Cal inhales. Ethan can see his chest expands as he gathers as much air as he can.

Ethan watches as the nurses work together to remove the tube from his brother's chest. The drain is not much narrower than the incision and he can see the friction as they try to glide the tube from between Cal's ribs.

"Nearly there," he tells his brother.

Unable to speak, Cal grimaces, but he remains calm and dry eyed as the procedure is completed.

"Tube's out," the nurse confirms. She places the blooded drain onto the tray. "You can exhale but slowly please, Cal, and stay still while we stitch the wound."

Ethan inspects his brother's side to see a small trickle of blood from the incision. The nurse wipes it away and deftly sets to work, sewing the skin back together.

"It's okay?" Cal gasps as he regains his breath.

"We'll get you to X-Ray within the hour to double check, but I'm confident everything went well." She ties the last stitch and looks up at him. "How does it feel?"

"Better." He rolls his head to face Ethan. "You need to get to work, bro?"

Ethan checks his watch. He's nearing forty minutes late. He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head in what he hopes is a nonchalant manner. "It's fine."

"Ethan, go. Just… come back on your break, yeah?"

Ethan hesitates. His thigh twitches as his legs battle between the urge to stand up and the desire to stay. "You sure?"

"Yes!"

"Okay." He makes it to his feet this time but only to grab his laptop from its precarious position on top of the open gym bag. He moves it to Cal's bedside table. "There you go. And if you need anything, text me. Okay? I won't part from my phone."

Cal smiles but Ethan can tell it's forced.

"Thank you," his older brother says.

Ethan makes it to the ED forty-five minutes after his shift was due to start. He can't ever recall being that late before. He hastens to the staff room to change and is in the process of retrieving his scrubs from his locker when the sound of the door shutting behind him makes him jump.

He spins to see Connie Beauchamp, arms folded across her chest.

"Mrs Beauchamp, I- I'm so s-"

"Care to explain your uncharacteristic tardiness?

"I-" he begins. Although he has no intention to tell her anything other than the truth, he doesn't want to sound as if he's using his brother as an excuse to get himself out of trouble. "I was with Cal."

"I thought as much," his boss says. Her voice softens "How is he doing?"

"Um, okay. He- he's out of danger, that's the main thing."

Unexpectedly, Connie places a hand on his wrist. "I sense there's a but?"

Ethan works hard to maintain a neutral expression but he can feel that the corners of his mouth pulling downwards. "He's very weak, needs help even to sit upright, he's still struggling with the pain and- and since he came out of ICU he's been putting on this stupid, brave face but I know him inside out, I can tell he's really shaken."

Connie nods. "It _will_ take time."

"My brother's not blessed with much patience." Ethan attempts a chuckle to lighten the mood but it comes out sounding strangled.

"Perhaps not," she says. "But there are other qualities which help in these circumstances."

"Yes," Ethan replies. He pulls at a loose thread on his scrub top, unwilling to verbalise his private commendations for his brother.

Connie seems to take the hint for she removes her hand from his arm. "Are you sure you're ready to be back at work?"

"We're already two doctors down," he says, avoiding her direct question. "I can't make it three for any longer. I do appreciate how flexible you've been though."

"Well I know how tough it is," she says softly. She shakes herself slightly and straightens her shoulders as if that's all it takes to remodel herself back to the usual aloof professional. "Get changed then, Doctor Hardy. We don't want to make it an hour late."

He blinks at her retreating back, unsure how his intimidating boss suddenly became so understanding.

As he begins to change into his uniform, her words echo in his mind and he considers which of Cal's skills will aid his recovery. There's been a haunted look almost constantly in his brother's eyes since the attack but aside from the tears while he was still critically ill in intensive care, Cal's done nothing to suggest he's struggling. His chest thumps with pride. It's bravery, he thinks, bravery and resilience.

His phone vibrates against his thigh and he pulls it out to read a text from Cal.

 _The grapes taste funny. Next time bring me a Thursday Night Special._

A sense of humour helps as well, Ethan supposes.

* * *

Ethan enters his brother's room and discovers an empty bed. The blanket is strewn to one side and his laptop is on the bedside table paused part way through a film. Ethan's throat constricts and he swallows desperately, trying to clear his throat so he can breathe easily again.

"Um, excuse me," he calls to a passing nurse, his voice much higher than he'd expected. "What's happened to my brother?"

"Oh," she says. "I think he's gone for a CT scan."

"A- a CT?" Ethan stammers his heart thumping against his chest. "Why?"

She shuffles uncomfortably. "I'm not sure, sorry, I've not been involved with his care today. It looked like it was planned though, not an emergency."

Her final sentence reassures Ethan enough for him to exhale deeply and let his shoulders relax, but he still has to bite his lip to prevent himself snapping at her for not knowing more. He returns to Cal's room and slumps onto the chair, grateful that it's his day off rather than a scheduled visit between shifts, gifting him the time to wait.

He thumbs his way through Cal's medical records, something he's been unable to do since his brother berated him for it a few days ago. The figures all read positively and Ethan frowns as he tries to decipher the reason why he's been sent for a scan. As far as he's aware, he knows everything to do with his brother's health, but his chest still pangs with the memory of his brother shutting him out when making his statement to the police, and he worries Cal has done the same again.

A noise from the corridor alerts him and he hastily shoved the folder back in its pocket in time to see Cal being wheeled into the room. His brother's head sways lethargically but when he sees Ethan he lifts his chin and smiles.

"Hey, bro."

Ethan waits until the porter has parked the wheelchair and disappeared in the search of a nurse to help transfer Cal back to the bed.

"What was the CT for?" he says by way of a greeting.

Cal's fingers drum along the tyres on his chair. "I asked for my physio referral to be sped up so they wanted to check everything is healing well internally first."

The relief that Cal isn't lying to him is short-lived as he digests the words. "Physio already? You sure you're up to that?"

"Well, that's what the CT will determine," he says, impatiently. "Keep up, Nibbles!"

Their conversation is disturbed by the entry of a nurse and a health care assistant come to move him out of the wheelchair.

"I'm alright here actually," Cal tells them.

"Nice try," the nurse says. She's smiling at him and Ethan tries to remember if it's the same nurse who managed to secure Cal the side room. She manoeuvres the wheelchair so it's parallel to the bed. "Remember how we did this last time? I'll control your waist as you stand up but you'll need to lean on my shoulders to steady yourself."

Cal gives a short nod and Ethan can see a pink tinge on his cheeks. He longs to tell his brother it's okay, but doing so would acknowledge the feeling of shame that Cal's attempting to hide.

Cal rises to his feet awkwardly, his knees wobbling and his back arched. The nurse is a head smaller than Cal but doesn't buckle as he rests heavily on her shoulders. The HCA moves the wheelchair out of the way and the nurse wastes no time in rotating Cal so that the back of his thighs are against the bed.

"And sit," she instructs.

Cal does as he's told.

Once he's positioned on the mattress, the nurse bends to scoop his legs up onto the bed as well.

Cal groans. "I can manage this. Please."

"Okay," the nurse replies. She sounds surprised but stands back, willing to let him try.

Cal pushes down on the mattress with his hands, rotating his body so that he's leaning against the pillows and his legs have the space to move to. He has to kick a little to get his legs high enough and Ethan can see him wincing as the abrupt movement jolts his chest. But his brother lifts his legs to the bed on the second attempt and then drags himself to the optimum position in the centre.

"That's good progress," the nurse tells him.

Cal's shrug tells Ethan his brother's far from convinced.

The nurse transfers the IV drip from the portable stand back to its home by the bed and double checks that nothing has been disconnected during the journey. "Back in a bit," she says, with another smile directed solely at Cal.

"Hey, well done," Ethan inserts more enthusiasm than he feels.

"I moved my legs," Cal says, bleakly. "My legs weren't sliced open. I don't know why everyone's making it such a big deal."

Ethan opts not to point out that it's only been three weeks since he was fighting for his life. "Your body's still weak; it doesn't matter which part you moved, it's still an accomplishment."

"Yes, but if I want to get home, I have to build up more strength than that."

"Of course," Ethan says, fighting to keep his tone calm. "And you will. But if you work too hard, or too soon, you'll cause more damage than you'll fix. That thoracotomy wound is still healing, Cal."

"I _know_ all of that."

"Then one step at a time. Please, Cal."

"Why do we have to talk about _me_ all the time?" Cal says. He turns to face Ethan with a sudden glint in his eyes. "You still haven't told me what's going on with you and Alicia."

Ethan splutters. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean? Did anything happen when you took her to the pub?"

"No." The word tumbles from Ethan's mouth before he's made the conscious decision to lie.

Cal studies him through narrowed eyes. "It did, didn't it?"

Ethan's stomach churns as he recalls that night. He can still feel the taste of Alicia's lips against his but the memory's nothing in comparison to how it felt to find his brother bleeding in the rain. He wonders whether he was kissing her at the exact moment the knife was plunged into his big brother's chest. Nausea stirs in his throat.

"Ever the gentleman," Cal says, disapprovingly. "We're not teenagers, it's okay to kiss and tell."

"Fine, we… kissed."

"Knew it."

"But it shouldn't have happened." Ethan shudders. "I made an error of judgement."

"But you like her."

"Yes, but there are more important things than- than- _desire_."

Cal's silent and Ethan wonders if his brother has guessed what's going through his mind. He doesn't see how it's possible that Cal cannot have made the same connection he has; if he hadn't been in the pub with Alicia, he'd have been by his brother's side, keeping him safe.

"It's more than that though, isn't it?" Cal says.

"Not anymore," Ethan lies. "I changed my mind. I don't think we're right for each other."

Cal's face contorts as he frowns. "Ethan," he says slowly. "Just don't- don't waste your life, okay?" His forehead is creased. "Anything can happen."

"I know." Ethan's chin wobbles as he tries to compose a proper response. The back of his throat strings. "I'm not wasting anything, I promise. This is where I want to be."


	6. Chapter 6

I feel like I should title this chapter _'_ Ethan's bad day'. Poor Ethan seems to be having a lot of those recently, but nothing in this story can be as bad as what he is experiencing on the show. I'm still watching but instantly reverting back to this as my head-canon.

Thanks everyone for your reviews. There's only one more part to come after this one, so I'd really appreciate it if you can keep up those reviews for just a little longer. I love reading them all.

 **tracys dream:** I'm still missing Cal as well, it'll never be the same! I'm glad you're still enjoying this and it's easing the pain a little. Thank you so much for your ongoing support.

 **CBloom2:** Thank you for reviewing. Your words actually gave me an idea to plump this part out a little, so thank you for that, I hope it does it justice even though it's only a tiny addition.

 **Rosie jane:** Thank you for your review, I'm really pleased you enjoyed the chapter. I like your suggestion, but unfortunately I've already had the main plot of this story planned out and I don't think I can squeeze it in. Really sorry for that, but I hope you still like the rest.

 **Becs33:** Yeah, I think I'm still in denial! Trying desperately to erase the funeral from my mind and like you say, thank God for fanfic! Thanks for reviewing, hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

6.

* * *

Ethan hears footsteps behind him and turns to see Alicia jogging down the corridor, her stethoscope bobbing and barely staying balanced around her neck.

"Ethan, I'm glad I caught you," she says. She places her hands on his shoulders to drag him forwards and plants a kiss on his cheek.

"Caught me?" he says, with a grin. "Am I a fish?"

"No, you idiot, you're just a very difficult man to locate." She pauses. "I phoned you."

"Ah," Ethan says. He takes his phone from his pocket and shows Alicia the screen. "It must have got lost somewhere among the multitude of messages from my brother." He shakes his head but can't disguise the fond smile as he reads the four recent messages: the first declaring how bored he is, the second asking for a beer, and the final two reminding him to visit.

"Right." Alicia says "Except it was more than once."

"I'm sorry… Cal's been my priority."

She nods. "No. No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be harassing you when you've got so much on your plate. It's just, I thought we..?" she leaves the question hanging. "Anyway. How is Cal?"

"He's recovering. Not as fast as he would like but they've confirmed he's going to be okay."

"I'm glad." She shuffles from one foot to the other. "Is it alright if I visit?"

"Um, yeah, sorry, I thought you knew. He's been allowed visitors for over a week now. Charlie's been going daily. Iain's been, Max, Elle, even Lily popped in for a bit."

"Yeah, I- I did know." She shuffles from one foot to the other. "I meant, is it alright if _I_ visit?"

Ethan squints at her, genuinely confused. "Of course, I'm sure Cal would be glad to see you."

"It's just- with Cal being my ex, and you and I- well, you know… I thought you might not want me to be alone with him."

"Alicia, Cal's still not well; he's hardly going to have anything like that on his mind."

"I know, I just-"

"Besides-"

Alicia raises an eyebrow. "Besides?"

Ethan's mouth flaps. He rolls onto the balls of his feet then back onto his heels. "Um, I should really get to work."

"Ethan!"

Ethan sags at the pain in Alicia's voice. He'd never intended to hurt her, but good intentions seemed to be getting him nowhere recently. "Alicia, you could do so much better than me," he says, sadly.

"No! You don't get out of it like that. Come here." She grabs his hand and drags him into the nearest laundry room.

Ethan looks nervously towards the door as she slams it behind her.

"The things you said to me in the pub, did you mean it?" she demands.

"Um." He rubs at his forehead. He wishes they wrote books on how to deal with women. The again, he supposes, how to let down you brother's ex who you're in love with but can't be with because said brother got stabbed during your first date, probably isn't covered by even the most detailed of textbooks.

She folds her arms. "Why would you even lie about something like that?"

"I- I…"

"I guess you're not the man I thought you were," Alicia says. "Go on, admit it! You were having a laugh at my expense, weren't you? Trying to kid that dumb Geordie into thinking someone actually liked her."

"No," Ethan says. No!" At the sight of tears in her eyes he reaches out and puts his hand on the side of her face. "Alicia, I really do like you."

She manages a watery smile but her eyes still flare with hurt.

"You're beautiful, intelligent, any man would be privileged." He traces his thumb across her cheek before letting his arm fall limply back to his side. "And I'm so sorry. I did mean what I said in the pub. But Cal nearly died while I was with you. I can't ignore that omen."

"It's not an omen," she says. "What happened to Cal was awful but it wasn't because of us."

"I put my own stupid fancies ahead of my brother and then he nearly died."

"Stop this, Ethan." She feels for his hand, her gaze still fixed firmly on his. "Don't punish yourself." She takes a shuddering breath. "Don't punish _me_."

"I- I don't know what else to do." He feels her fingers tighten around his but his own hand remains slack. "I have to be there for him now."

"You _are_ being," she says. "Ethan, you're with him all the time. We've barely seen you. Even when you are at work you spend the whole shift in Resus, treating far more patients than your allocation, may I add, and then you disappear upstairs during every single break." She pauses for breath. "Are you even sleeping? Eating?"

"Yes. Enough. It doesn't matter."

"Let me help," she says. "While you're taking care of Cal, I can take care of you. You know, I can make a mean pasta bake…"

He screws his face up. "I can't let you do that."

"I want to help." She moves closer and rests her forehead against his. "I want to be with you," she whispers.

From the close proximity of their faces, he can't help but let his gaze drift towards her lips. He scrunches his eyes shut to avoid looking and tenses, unable to pull away, unable to move closer. He can feel the warmth of her breath against his skin.

"Ethan, _please_!"

He opens his eyes, knowing he owes her that much at least. "If things were different," he starts. "I- I want it too. But it's not right, Alicia. Not when Cal- How can we?"

"Like this," she says.

He's not strong enough to pull away before she brings her lips to his but allows only the slightest of kisses before angling his head to the side. "I'm sorry, I _can't_. I'm sorry."

He brushes past her and stumbles through the door. He takes a couple of exhausted steps away from the laundry room. The corridor suddenly feels oppressive. His body grows heavy and black spots begin to creep into the foreground of his vision. He staggers to the wall and leans on it heavily, taking forcefully deep breaths and grateful that the world slowly returns to normal.

He hadn't noticed Alicia follow him out but he hears her voice now, laced with hostility. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he pants.

"Then I'll leave you to it."

He listens as her harsh footsteps echo down the corridor. He takes several further deep breaths and then heads the opposite way down the corridor than Alicia, back to work.

* * *

Ethan watches his patient's face lights up as she talks about her late husband

"He was the most irritating man I knew," Betty says proudly. "Barely a day went by that I didn't have to tell him off for something. I even kicked him out once!" She cackles. "But guess where he spent the night?"

"Where?" Ethan asks politely.

"On the front doorstep!" she says. "The whole night! And while he was out there he pulled up all the weeds from the garden, the very thing I'd been nagging him about for weeks."

Ethan chuckles. "I'm assuming you reconciled?"

"Oh, I could never stay mad at him for long," she says. "He was the love of my life."

Ethan checks the bruising on Betty's abdomen. As he presses lightly on the injury he recounts her explanation of how she climbed up onto her kitchen cabinet to reach a high shelf, but overbalanced and hit her side on a sharp corner on the way down. She'd remained on the floor for nearly a day before her daughter came to visit and found her there.

She gasps in pain at his touch. "That's awfully tender."

"I'm sorry," he tells her. "I'm going to check whether the ultrasound scanner is available yet. It may be nothing, but I'd really like to get it scanned to be on the safe side."

"Whatever you think is best, Doctor."

Ethan gives his customary reassuring smile and is on his way to make enquiries when he hears a loud call from another of his patients.

"Oi, doc!" the young man shouts again. "You deaf?"

Ethan approaches his bed. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm in a lot of pain here, you know. There must be summit you can give me."

"Yes," he says, levelly. "Usually we are able to give morphine for severe breaks such as yours. However, seeing as we are still awaiting the results from your tox screen, we can't give you anything stronger than the Entonox for fear of overdose."

"That's a load of bull," the patient accuses. "You don't know what you're doing."

The way the man glares at him makes Ethan shudder. There's something reminiscent of the look in his eyes, something that reminds him of Scott Ellison. He narrows his eyes and walks away, ignoring the shouts of anger coming from the bed.

Outside Resus, Ethan sinks to a chair. He closes his eyes but he can still picture the way Scott's eyes had burnt into his own just a few hours before he'd near fatally stabbed his brother. He gently massages his temple, ignoring the ever-present headache. Weeks later, it still makes no sense to him that Scott isn't behind bars.

He feels a presence next to him and squints to see Charlie by his side.

"I'm fine," he says, curtly.

"I'm glad to hear it," he nurse says. "But I hadn't come to find you with the intention of asking how you were."

"What is it?"

"A word in private?" Charlie suggests.

Something twists in Ethan's chest. He spins to face Charlie. "Is it Cal?" he blurts. He grabs blindly for his phone, he's not felt it vibrate for at least an hour. The edges of his vision blur.

"No, no, it's not Cal."

Ethan exhales in relief. He tries to breathe normally, hoping his colleague was oblivious to his momentary panic. He follows as Charlie leads him to the staff room, glad that the nurse's pace is slower than some of his younger counterparts. His own limbs feel heavy with fatigue.

"Are you sleeping, Ethan?" Charlie asks as they walk.

"Um, a little." Ethan reaches beneath his glasses to rub at a bleary eye. "Enough."

"Don't let Cal keep you every hour of the day." He pauses while he opens the door and ushers Ethan into the staff room. "I have talked to him about this."

Ethan shrugs. "I don't mind. He's really bored. And while I'm not there he has nothing to distract him from the pain."

"But you'll be no use to Cal if you end up in hospital yourself with exhaustion."

"I won't." He opens his eyes wider, trying to prove his point. "Anyway, Charlie, I was an insomniac throughout most of medical school, I function pretty well off minimal sleep."

Charlie's hum sounds far from convinced.

"Was that all?" Ethan asks.

"No." The nurse frowns. "Ethan, I've got Mickey Ellison in cubicles."

"Ellison?"

"Scott's not here," Charlie tells him before he has to ask. "He's not coming."

"Then why-?"

"Mickey's asking to speak with you."

Shock cuts through Ethan and it feels like someone is pressing on his windpipe. His mouth flaps as he struggles to breathe. He wonders what an Ellison wants with him and his fists curl as he imagines Mickey gloating about his brother getting away with attempted murder.

His forehead creases and he shakes his head. "I don't want to see him."

"Mickey seems a decent chap."

"He's related to a murderer."

"He's been beaten up," Charlie says, slowly. "By his brother." He pauses for Ethan to digest the news. "I think you might want to hear him out."

Ethan shakes his head again. He feels sick. "Do you- do you think it's to do with Cal?"

Charlie rubs at the back of his head. "I don't know for sure, Ethan. There's only one way to answer that."

Ethan clutches his phone. He considers phoning Cal for advice. But he decides he'd rather not risk upsetting his brother before he has anything definite to tell him.

Charlie nods towards the door. "You coming?"

Ethan takes a shaky breath. "Yeah."

"Good lad."

As they approach the cubicle, Ethan can hear raised voices. He looks to Charlie questioningly but the nurse just shrugs. An unease stirs in Ethan's stomach but he's sure he'd recognise Scott's voice and that's not it.

"Nah, man, they'll do you for perverting the course of justice!" a man snaps. There's an inaudible response and then a thud. "I can't listen to this," the same voice continues. "You can screw up your own life."

As the curtain is whipped to the side, Ethan jumps. He's surprised to see Jez surface from the cubicle. There's a look of horror on the paramedic's face as he realises he's been caught but he pauses for just a second before storming towards the exit.

Ethan turns back to the patient and studies Mickey. The youngest Ellison is in a hospital gown, his cheek swollen, nose caked in dried blood and an cut oozing on his forehead. His blonde curls hang messily around his face with only a few strands remaining in their bun. His knees are pulled up to his chest and Ethan can see he's shivering despite the warmth of the E.D. He's staring desperately in the direction Jez had fled in and doesn't seem to have registered his and Charlie's arrival.

Ethan clears his throat and when Mickey turns to face him, he can see the tears in the other man's eyes.

Mickey looks up at him, his chin trembling. "Thanks for coming," he says. His voice is soft unlike the rest of his family's.

"What do you want?"

"How's your brother?"

"Alive," Ethan says tersely. He has no intention of sharing details of Cal's condition with anyone who has a connection to his attacker.

"Will you tell him something from me?"

Ethan shrugs.

"I'm going to change my statement," Mickey says. "I'm withdrawing my alibi for Scott."

Ethan's heart starts to hammer against his ribs. "You- you-"

"Yeah."

Ethan takes a step forwards. He shoves his hands in his scrub pockets to try to hide the way that they're shaking. "Do you mean it?"

"I'm done with him." Mickey draws a hand beneath his nose and it comes away bloody. "As soon as I'm discharged, I'm going to the police station."

"I have to ask," Charlie says, "is this just because he's put you in here today? Don't tell us you're changing your statement if there's a chance you won't follow through once you're less upset."

Mickey shakes his head. "Why do you think Scott _beat me up_?"

There's silence. Ethan's throat stings. He can't wait to tell Cal the good news, that after weeks of injustice they're finally getting somewhere.

"Thank you," he says. The words sound much smaller out loud than they did in his head. He holds out his hand. Mickey takes it but the handshake is feeble.

"Look," Mickey says. "I don't know for sure that my brother attacked yours. But I know he was shaken when he arrived home and he was covered in cuts and bruises before he came anywhere near me. I'll tell the police that. Then it's in their hands."

Ethan nods. "As long as they have the truth."

He's about to offer Mickey another word of gratitude when a shout from behind distracts him.

"Dr Hardy, you're needed! It's Betty!" a nurse calls.

Ethan darts from the cubicle. As he runs towards Resus he berates himself for getting distracted and forgetting all about the ultrasound scanner to check the elderly lady's abdomen. One look at his patient, flat on her back and struggling to breathe even with an oxygen mask over her mouth, confirms his suspicions.

"What's going on?" Mrs Beauchamp appears out of nowhere.

"Suspected intra-abdominal bleed," he tells her.

"Okay, where are the results of her ultrasound?"

"Um, I haven't- I haven't done one," Ethan stammers.

"Why?" Connie pushes him out of the way so she can get closer to Betty to examine her. "Actually, on second thoughts, don't answer that. I haven't got time to listen to excuses when I have a patient about to bleed out on me."

Ethan staggers backwards. There's black spots in front of his vision again. His limbs feel heavy. Everything's awfully hot. Somewhere in the distance he hears his patient, the one tanked up on drugs, jeering at him, telling the room he knew that doctor had no clue, but his voice is echoing and growing increasingly faint. He blinks but the dark spots won't dissipate. The room spins. His knees buckle. He hits the floor and everything goes black.

* * *

"Thought you finished at 3?" Cal snaps.

"I got held up with a… patient," Ethan lies. He doesn't need to admit that the patient was himself.

He slumps onto the chair, grateful that his legs supported him all the way to the ward. Charlie had tried to convince him to be pushed in a wheelchair, but Ethan hadn't wanted to worry his brother by a dramatic arrival. The thirty minute nap was more than enough to get him back on his feet.

"You could have texted."

"Sorry," Ethan says. "You know what it's like; there was no time to be on my phone."

"Yeah, well, maybe I've been trapped here for so long I've forgotten what it's like to work as a doctor rather than be poked and prodded by one."

Ethan pinches the top of his nose and hopes to abate the remainder of his dizziness. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his brother glaring at him. He sighs. "Is something wrong?"

Cal scoffs. "Oh, well, in case it slipped your notice, I was stabbed, had my chest carved open, lost three days on life support and now I've been stuck in this hell hole for the past few weeks." He narrows his eyes. "Stupid question, Ethan," he mutters.

Ethan takes a deep breath and fights the urge to tell his brother to stop taking his bad mood out on him. "I know you're struggling with the pain-"

"Who invited Einstein?"

"-but I have some good news that might cheer you up."

Cal looks up expectantly, his face brighter. "Can you take me home?"

"No, but I saw Mickey Ellison today."

Cal slumps. "I thought you said _good_ news."

"Caleb, just listen, okay?" Ethan waits for his brother to scowl his way to silence. "He's going to retract his alibi. He's going to the police this afternoon and he's going to tell them he saw evidence Scott was in a fight before the altercation between the two of them." He smiles encouragingly, excited for the moment his brother registers the news and they can celebrate together. "We've got him, Cal. He's going to go down for what he did to you."

"Who cares?"

"Cal, this is what we wanted," Ethan says. He reaches out and squeezes his brother's shoulder.

"Get off me."

Ethan tries to hide his hurt as he withdraws his hand. He swallows furiously. "You did tell the police it was Scott, right?"

Cal squeezes his eyes shut but slowly nods. A muscle twitches in his jaw.

"Cal," Ethan says softly. He wants to hold his brother but is scared of another rebuke. "Cal, it's going to get better. And once Scott's in prison it'll be easier to get on with your life."

"I don't see what difference it will make."

"Well, you'll feel safe…"

"I'm not _scared_ ," Cal says. "I'm pissed off. I'm sick to death of this building. Unless Ellison getting locked up will miraculously make me well again, then I don't give a shit."

"He needs to pay."

"You're like a broken record, Ethan." Cal clenches his fist. "I just want to get out of here. _Please_ , take me home."

Ethan winces at the desperation in his brother's voice. "I'm sorry, you know I can't. Not yet."

"All my wounds are healing well, I'm on oral pain relief now rather than intravenous, there's no reason I need to be in hospital!"

"Except for the fact you're still recovering from critical injuries."

"I'm bed blocking," Cal says. He throws himself back on the pillows and does a terrible job at hiding the pain the abrupt movement caused him. "Fine! I'll discharge myself."

"No, I'm sorry, that's ridiculous."

"You think I wouldn't cope?" Cal accuses.

"I know you wouldn't!" Ethan's head is pounding and he suspects it's as much from this argument as his fainting spell earlier. "Can you honestly tell me you'd make it from one end of our flat to the other?"

"It's irrelevant," Cal says. "You can help me. Come on, Ethan, you owe me."

Ethan's blood runs cold. He freezes. "What- what do you mean?"

Cal runs a frustrated hand over his face and through his hair. He releases an angry grunt. "You going to take me home, or what?"

Ethan feels sick but he can't change his mind just to appease his brother. He has to do what is right, not what is easy. "No, Cal, you're not well enough."

"Stop being selfish," Cal snaps. "This was all your fault in the first place. If you'd actually listened to me and got away from work, then I wouldn't have had to intervene. It's thanks to you I ended up in here, the least you could do is get me out."

Ethan recoils. It would have hurt less if Cal had punched him. The room begins to blur with tears. He staggers to his feet. All he knows is he has to get out of there before Cal sees him cry.

As he half runs, half trips through the door, he can hear Cal calling after him. He ignores his own name, ignores the way his brother's voice sounds broken. He dashes to the nearest toilet. His knees hit the floor and he vomits up the sandwich that Charlie had forced him to eat.

Of course, what Cal said was true; it _was_ all his fault.

He just hadn't expected his brother would blame him too.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm sorry the wait was so long. Life got in the way yet again! I just hope I haven't lost you all.

Anyway, this is the final part, so I want to thank all of you for your support, not just with my writing but with knowing I'm not alone in grieving over a fictional character! Cal and Ethan have been amazing and I'm still so sad about what happened. While I've been writing this, Cal's still been alive in my mind, so I feel like I'm finally going to have to accept they killed one of my all time favourites :'(

I hope this part is a satisfying ending (I tried so hard to resist any cheesiness, but by the time I got to the last few lines I completely failed - you'll see what I mean). Please, please, leave one final review. I've enjoyed writing this regardless, but really do appreciate every bit of feedback.

 **Bonnie Sveen Fan:** I know, I feel so sorry for both of them throughout this story. But they've always said hurtful things to each other when under stress, so I didn't want to stray too far from that. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

 **tracys dream:** Really pleased you enjoyed that chapter despite all the drama. Thanks for all your reviews throughout.

 **Becs22:** It was very harsh of Cal to say and must have hurt Ethan to hear - you're certainly right that he'll have taken it to heart. I hope you enjoy how they've moved forwards after that comment. Thank you so much for your review.

 **CBloom2:** As much as I love them, there's always been elements of Cal taking Ethan for granted, so I think it was the same in that scenario, Cal snapping without stopping to consider how much Ethan has been there for him. Buuut, there may be a resolution coming. Thank you for your comments and I hope you enjoy the final chapter.

 **InfinityAndOne:** Thank you for reviewing, your comments are pretty much spot on. Cal's hurting and fed up and he lashed out with the first thing he could think of, but I don't think he realised (in that chapter anyway) how much pain his words would actually cause Ethan. I really appreciate you saying they are in character as that's the thing I always strive for, but sometimes struggle with, so thank you so much. Hope you enjoy this chapter too.

 **Tanith Panic:** Thank you so much. I'm glad the medical details worked as, even though I research, I'm blagging a lot of it. Thank you for picking out that sentence, I'm glad the emotions came across.

 **Anonymouse:** Ahh, I'm sorry for making you cry. I had to sneak a little reference in though and there's a few more to come in this chapter. I wish this was canon too! This is the version in my head but every time I watch an episode it all comes back to me. Such a heartbreaking way for it to end. Thanks for your support and I hope you enjoy this final part.

 **casslourocks:** No need to apologise, I know how hectic life can get and your feedback is always so kind anyway. I'm glad that the unravelling worked - things were bound to go wrong at some point, especially with them both at their most emotional. I hope I've managed to bring them back to their normal selves without going too far in the opposite direction. Thank you for all of your support with this story, I really appreciate it and hope you like the final chapter.

* * *

7.

* * *

Ethan drags his spoon around his bowl of porridge. He stirs the oats until they're almost solid. Tentatively, he fills the spoon and puts the tip into his mouth. The porridge is congealed and half cold and he feels the familiar stirring of nausea. He lets the spoon clatter back into the bowl and with a sigh he slides it across the table.

He recalls his promise to Charlie that he'd start taking care of himself. It isn't so much the promise he's worried about breaking, but the possibility of another fainting episode; he has far too much to do to waste time lying on his back waiting for his legs to stop shaking. He abandons the porridge and grabs a few handfuls of cornflakes straight from the box, swilling the cereal down with an extra strong coffee.

Even though it's preferable to the porridge, it's reminiscent of the way Cal manages to scatter cereal around the flat as he eats out of the packet while getting ready for work. Ethan thinks of his brother, alone in hospital, and the cornflakes threaten to resurface. He grimaces. He doesn't care that Charlie advised him to spend his day off resting; he's going to the hospital and he's going to do whatever it takes to earn Cal's forgiveness.

* * *

As soon as he enters Cal's room, Ethan can tell he's not the only one who has spent the night fighting back tears. Cal's nose is pink, his eyes are shut and the music of Oasis leaks from beneath his headphones. Ethan clears his throat but it has no effect, so he waits, frozen, until Cal senses his presence and whips the headphones from his ears. As their eyes meet, Ethan thinks his brother looks almost frightened.

"I didn't think you'd come back," he says.

Ethan doesn't trust himself to speak without his voice wobbling and so shrugs and remains in the same spot, wishing, not for the first time that his brother had a better memory – _I'll keep coming back for you, Caleb; I just will._

"What I said yesterday," Cal continues, sounding desperate. "I didn't mean it."

Ethan tries to nod, but his neck feels stiff and he stays gawping at his brother as he wonders how to proceed.

"It was just- I- I'd just-" Cal shivers. He takes a deep breath. "I'd had a nightmare. And then physio went badly. And then you were there and I lashed out, but I promise, I didn't mean it."

"Yeah, well, you were right."

"What?"

"You were right," Ethan repeats. Each word hurts to force from his throat. "It was my fault."

"That's stupid," Cal says. " _You_ didn't stab me."

Ethan removes his glasses so that he can rub at his eyes. He opens them in time to see his brother struggling to his feet. "No, no, don't get up."

"Then stop standing in the middle of the room like an idiot and come here."

Ethan collapses into the bedside chair. "Caleb, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Scott was after _me_ ," Ethan says. Although he's not verbalised it before, the sentence sounds old from the amount of times he's repeated it to himself. "He couldn't find me because I was hiding in the pub, so he went for you instead, the closest equivalent."

"Not exactly," Cal says slowly.

"Then, what? He realised attacking you would hurt me more?"

"Ellison's not that clever." Cal pauses. "Listen, I was in a foul mood yesterday, please forget what I said. It was horrible and it isn't true."

"It's not because of what you said." Ethan shuffles to the edge of his chair. "What did you mean, _not exactly_?"

Cal groans. "Ethan, it wasn't your fault, okay? That's all you need to know."

"No, tell me. Please."

"Can we stop talking about it?"

"Caleb, we haven't talked about it at all, that's the problem."

Cal falls silent and looks away from him. Ethan can see his brother absentmindedly fingering the outline of the dressing covering his stab wound.

"I'm your brother, why won't you tell me?"

"Because it scares me, alright," Cal snaps. A shudder runs through his body. "I thought I was going to die. And whenever I think about… about what happened… I get scared just like I was that night. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to feel like that."

Ethan moves instinctively and grabs his brother's hand. He half expects Cal to pull away but his brother squeezes back and manages a small, sad smile.

"Cal, how often are you having nightmares?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Every night, or-"

"Just occasionally." He gives a bitter laugh. "Usually when I've not had one for a few days and have started to relax."

"There are people you could speak to..."

Cal shakes his head. "No. Once I'm home and things have gone back to normal they'll stop. Anyway, they're just dreams. I can handle it."

Ethan raises his eyebrows but his brother pointedly ignores him and pulls his hand away.

"There's something I don't understand," Ethan says. "If you don't want to relive it now, then why didn't you just let me listen when you made your statement to the police?"

Cal looks at him out of the corner of his eye. "There were things you wouldn't want to hear."

"You don't know that." Ethan holds a hand up to his aching head. "I can't stop thinking about it, Caleb. I keep seeing you lying hurt in the rain and wondering what I should have done to prevent it. I mean, answering my phone, that's a given, but would it have been enough or would I have to go back further to handle the whole situation with Roy differently?" Ethan pauses to massage his temple. He knows he's rambling but now he's started, he can't stop. "And Scott. Did he have a knife on him anyway or did he get one with the intention to hurt one of us? I know he was grieving, but seriously, what kind of person-"

"I started the fight," Cal suddenly interrupts.

Ethan's chest thumps. "You… what?"

"That's what I had to tell the police." He takes a shaky breath. "The reason _why_ I did it."

"But- but- Scott?"

"He knew where you were, Ethan. He as good as told me he was going to hurt you. So I tried to scare him off." Cal drags a hand through his hair and locks it into a fist. "I had him on the floor. I was winning." He frowns. "Well, I thought I was winning. But however hard I hit him he was still adamant he was going after you. So I couldn't stop fighting him. How could I? The second I stopped, he'd be straight after you." Cal pauses and turns his head away. "But then he asked me to wait. He _begged._ And I thought- I thought he _must_ have changed his mind. So I stopped."

His brother's voice breaks on the last syllable and Ethan feels as if someone has reached inside him and is squeezing his heart.

"Was that- was that when..?" he asks.

Even though Cal is still facing away from him, Ethan can sense his small nod. He reaches out and places a hand on his brother's far cheek and gently turns his head back. Cal's eyes are damp and he's frowning as if it's taking deep concentration to prevent the tears from falling.

"Thank you for telling me," Ethan says, softly.

Cal's lips part but it takes a few moments for him to compose himself enough to speak. "I spoke to the police without you as I didn't want you to feel guilty that it happened because I was trying to stop him getting to you. But I guess I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice you were blaming yourself anyway."

"Of course I was." He bows his head. " _Am_."

"You have to stop obsessing over this." Cal swivels so that his legs are over the side of the bed and the brothers are head on. "Charlie told me you fainted yesterday."

"Charlie shouldn't have."

"He's worried about you, Nibbles. So am I!"

"That's ridiculous," Ethan says, despite his eyes prickling. "You're the one in hospital."

"Tell me you'll start to look after yourself."

Ethan considers telling his brother he already is looking after himself, but he knows Cal will see through the lie. "I will."

"Good. Because I can't do this without you." Cal gives a bashful smile. "Look, if I tell you something, do you promise not to use it against me in an argument?"

Ethan raises one eyebrow but nods.

"When I thought I was going to… die… the thing that scared me more than anything was the thought of being without you."

Ethan forgets to breathe. He wants to grab his brother and hold him tight. He makes do with squeezing his brother's knee. "I nearly lost you, Cal. I don't know what I'd do if- if…" he takes a breath and tries again. "If you-" It feels as if the lump in his throat is obstructing his speech. As he stares helplessly at his brother, he feels a tear trickle down his cheek.

"Are you crying?" Cal asks. "You don't cry."

"I do," Ethan says. He wipes a hand beneath his nose.

"Oh come here, you idiot."

Ethan doesn't rebuke Cal for standing this time, only joins him on his feet and buries his face into his brother's good shoulder and lets Cal's baggy t-shirt mop up his tears. His brother's arms snake around his waist and Ethan reciprocates.

"I love you, Cal," he murmurs. "You mustn't ever scare me like that."

Cal drops a kiss just above his ear. "I'd do the same again."

"No." Ethan pulls away to stare his brother in the eye. "Caleb, I'm serious."

"So am I!" Cal says. "I did it because you're my little brother and I love you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you!"

Ethan tightens his grip.

"Uh, Ethan, not so hard, that's sore."

In horror, Ethan jumps back from his brother, letting his arms fall to his side. "Gosh, Cal, I'm so sorry."

Cal straightens himself. "It's fine."

Ethan dabs at the remaining tears on his cheeks. "I'd do the same, you know."

"Yeah, I know. You've been looking after me most my life." Cal reaches out and ruffles Ethan's hair. "Tried to do the same for once, but it's me isn't it; I screwed up as always."

"You don't always screw up."

"Don't I?" Cal sinks back onto the mattress. "From a few of his punches, I thought I might end up in a cubicle for an hour or two. It never occurred to me that I'd still be in hospital nearly a month later."

Ethan takes a seat next to him on the bed. "It could have been much worse."

Cal nods softly and stares down at his lap. "Can we promise to stop thinking about that?"

"Yeah, okay."

There's a silence during which Ethan's sure they're both contemplating the thing they've only just agreed to forget. He's sure it's a promise he'll fail to keep, but his brother doesn't need to know everything that goes on in his head.

"I need some air," Cal says.

"Are you allowed outside?"

"Probably not."

As an idea begins to hatch in Ethan's mind, he removes his glasses and polishes them thoroughly, buying time while he makes certain he wouldn't be doing anything dangerous. His brother's machines have all been disconnected and he's only still an in-patient while he's rebuilding enough muscle strength to be predominately independent. He can't think of any reason why Cal wouldn't be allowed a short breather outside, particularly if he has a doctor by his side.

"I'll be right back," Ethan says.

He scans the ward. There's a steady buzz of staff but none of the same urgency he's used to within his own department. He strides down the corridor, unsure whether a fast or slow pace will look the least conspicuous. He takes a few turns without seeing what he is looking for and contemplates consulting Max. But then he sees it like a discarded gift. He grabs the wheelchair before anyone can spot him and steers it back to Cal's room.

His brother's expression quickly turns from surprise to gratitude.

Ethan grins. "Come on then, get in."

Cal is slow as he lowers himself into the wheelchair but he looks stable and doesn't release even the slightest utterance of pain. "And away, chauffeur!" he says.

Ethan pokes his head out of the door and checks in both directions. He waits for a nurse to retreat around a corner and then deftly manoeuvres the chair into the corridor.

"Hey, Nibbles," Cal says, "You'd better put in more oomph than when you're driving if you want to avoid us getting caught."

"Yeah, well, that's if you can keep quiet for long enough not to alert half the ward."

"Touché, bro."

"Okay," Ethan whispers. "Let's go."

He pushes the wheelchair down the corridor as fast as he feels sensible. But one fatal glance over his shoulder draws the attention of a nurse. Ethan looks away and hopes he was quick enough to avoid her recognising them, but she calls to them and asks them to wait.

"Ethan, run!" Cal says

It's against Ethan's natural traits to disobey someone in authority, but somehow his legs start moving faster and he's pushing the wheelchair with as much energy as his weary body can manage. Although he's focusing on where they're going, his brother has swivelled round to look behind them and is keeping a wide eyed commentary of what the nurse is doing.

"She's following us," he says. "Go faster!"

Ethan takes the final corner wide but reaches the lift with enough time to wait for it to travel from the floor below. As the doors open, the nurse skids around the corner. With one desperate look in her direction, Ethan shoves the wheelchair into the lift and holds his breath as Cal repeatedly jabs at the close button. The doors close to the sight of her face, red from running and open mouthed as she scolds them.

"Gosh," Ethan says. "I'm going to be in so much trouble."

Cal starts to snigger. "Did you see her face?"

Ethan lips twitch as he recalls her look of disbelief as she'd chased after them. Now they've escaped her wrath, he realises how funny it was they'd raced down the corridor in a wheelchair, despite having scolded teenagers for doing the same in the ED on numerous occasions. He bursts out laughing and has to lean against the chair to hold himself upright.

At the sound of his high pitched giggles, Cal starts to laugh harder. They laugh at each other, almost verging on hysteria as the toll of their tough conversation finally melts away.

As the lift doors open, they're caught by a family who eye them strangely as they struggle to maintain a straight face. But outside, Cal grows quieter. Ethan suspects his brother is having difficulty adjusting to the change of environment but from his position behind the wheelchair, he can do no more than hope he's enjoying the fresh air rather than fearful at being so close to where he was stabbed.

Ethan respects the silence until they arrive at the peace garden. Then he crouches down next to Cal. "Alright?"

Cal smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, I am now."

* * *

Ethan opens the front door of his flat and takes a step back in surprise as he recognises one of the men standing there. The policeman offers a courteous nod which Ethan returns out of impulse rather than intention. Even though he has been working on Cal's case since the day of his attack, Ethan can't shake the impression that the officer doesn't appreciate spending his time corresponding with the victim's anxious brother.

Ethan registers the other man's smart shirt and tie and realises he must be a senior. He holds out his warrant card in the same manner someone would offer a chocolate from a fancy box. "DI Cunningham," he says.

"Um, hello," Ethan replies.

"Is Caleb Knight in?"

"Yeah. Yeah he's here." Ethan stands back to let the officers in. "Cal!"

As he leads them through to the lounge, he hopes he shouted loud enough for Cal to at least crawl out from beneath the duvet they'd been sharing. He wants to explain to the men that he doesn't usually allow such a mess in his flat, but as it is Cal's first full day home they were in the middle of working their way through a boxset.

Cal's on his feet but Ethan suspects it's only because the family sized bag of crisps has fallen to the floor and spilled everywhere.

"Cal," Ethan says. "DI Cunningham."

Ethan watches as Cal's eyes rapidly swivel from the inspector back to him. He nods encouragingly at his brother.

"Right. Hi." Cal says. He drags the duvet from the sofa and shoves it in an empty spot in the corner of the room. "Do you want a coffee? Ethan will put the kettle on."

"That's kind, but no thank you."

Ethan takes a seat, hoping it will prompt his brother to do the same. He notices the police officer scanning his eyes across the mass of prescriptions scattered across the worktop and decides he'll give his brother a few days leeway then request they're tidied into a cupboard.

"How can we help?" Ethan says once it becomes apparent that Cal isn't going to. His shoulders ache with the strain of holding himself stiffly as he waits for the news.

"We've had some new information to consider in your case," the inspector begins, "Specifically, the alibi we were given for Scott Ellison has now been retracted, meaning the injuries he sustained can no longer be attributed to any other altercation. That, alongside the victim statements, has provided us with enough evidence to make an arrest. We have charged him with attempted murder."

Ethan doesn't attempt to disguise his sigh of relief.

"Of course, this will go to trial, and you'll both be required to give evidence under oath," he continues. "Once an initial court date is set, we'll be in touch."

Next to him, his brother's gone very still and silent. Ethan squeezes his knee and it feels unusually brittle. "Cal, he's going to go to prison."

The inspector clears his throat. " _If_ he's found guilty, he'll be looking at a minimum sentence of twelve years." He pauses, perhaps hoping Cal will look up. "I'm obligated to warn you that there's a possibility his solicitor will try to diminish the charge to GBH, but please feel assured the severity of your injuries will be taken into consideration during court."

Ethan's stomach gives a familiar churn. "He nearly died! That's got to be- that's attempted murder! Surely!?"

"As I say, the jury will be provided with a full medical insight."

"Is he getting bail?" Cal's still frozen and his voice is small, but Ethan feels reassured that his brother is calm enough to speak.

The inspector shakes his head. "Even if his solicitor applies for bail, I'm certain it won't be granted."

Cal falls silent again.

"Look," the inspector says. "Scott Ellison has been on our radar for some time. If we can get him sent down for this, it increases our chances of tying him to other violent crimes in the area that he's so far evaded. We're going to do all we can."

Ethan nods, feeling warmer to the two police than he has done so far. But Cal finally moves and by the slump of his shoulders he can tell his brother is less convinced.

"Uh," Cal says. "What if he tries claiming self-defence?" He pauses. "I- I hit him too."

"I know." He gives a kind smile. "I _have_ read your statement." He looks Cal directly in the eye. "Any solicitor who wants their reputation to remain intact would be foolish to suggest self-defence as a charge. It was unnecessary force. Ellison's injuries were no more than cuts and bruises and the fact he was in possession of an offensive weapon shows intent."

Cal nods but as his brother's arm brushes his, Ethan can feel him shaking.

"We'll give you some privacy," the inspector says. He pulls a card from his pocket and hands it to Cal. "Call me if you need to discuss your case. I'll be in touch."

Cal accepts the card but immediately passes it to Ethan and folds his arms across his chest as if to avoid any chance of the card being returned to him.

Ethan leaves his brother on the sofa and shows the police the way out. Once the door is shut, he turns and leans heavily against it. He twirls the DI's business card between his fingers. Although he's light-headed with relief, he knows that a court case could take months and he doesn't know how much strength either he or Cal have left. He remains in the hallway for a few moments longer than necessary to take a few deep breaths while out of his brother's eyesight.

He forces himself to stop frowning and return to the lounge. He pauses in the doorway and watches Cal remove a cushion seat from the sofa with one hand, the other clasped to his chest to prevent the movement causing strain on his injuries.

"You okay?" Ethan asks.

"Lost the bloody remote."

"I meant-"

"Yeah, I know what you meant," Cal snaps. He sighs. "Sorry." He chucks the seat back onto the sofa and sits down on it, despite it not fully being in place. "Despite the whopping holes in my chest, it still doesn't feel real sometimes. But it's hard to forget when _they_ turn up on our doorstep."

Ethan sits next to him. He immediately spots the remote hiding under the coffee table but opts not to mention it so that his brother is forced to speak to him rather than submerge himself in another ninety minute episode. "It'sgood news though, Cal."

Cal idly flips the duvet on the floor in an attempt to find the remote, but Ethan can tell he's making little effort. "Is it?"

"Are you worried about giving evidence?"

Cal hesitates. "Do you remember that time Mum forced me to do a piano recital even though I always messed up on the fast bit of Frère Jacques?"

Ethan remembers being about five, sat on his adoptive mother's lap and watching Cal freeze on stage, refusing to play the piano he had been positioned in front of. He smiles at the memory of one of the few times his confident older brother has embarrassed himself, but can't work out why Cal has brought it up now.

"Well, I feel like that," Cal says. "Except worse, because I can't exactly run off and lock myself in the toilets this time."

"It will be okay."

"Yeah. My word against his though…"

" _Our_ word against his. Who do you think is more reliable, two doctors or a thug with a criminal record?"

Cal shrugs but Ethan knows his brother will have understood the point. He retrieves the remote from beneath the coffee table and passes it over.

Cal's fingers hover over the play button but he doesn't press it. "What about you? You hate public speaking."

"Ah," Ethan grimaces. "Yes, I do. But this is different. I can do it for you, to put things right."

"Ethan…" Cal drags out his name. He puts the remote down next to him, out of use. "You promised to stop giving yourself a hard time. There's nothing _you_ need to put right."

"I should have been there."

"You were."

"Caleb, I-"

"No, hear me out." Cal swivels to face him. "I'm not having this. You've been there for me my whole life, even the times I haven't deserved it, like with Taylor, or the times I've tried to shut you out, you know, through all the stuff with little Matilda and then Emilie. You've put me to bed when I've been drunk and cleaned up my sick more times than I can remember. You bailed me out with money throughout my twenties even though we weren't getting on for most of it."

"Well, you're my brother-" Ethan begins.

"I'm still speaking." Cal says, with a bossy grin that rapidly fades. "And now, these past few weeks, you've been there for me every single day. I mean, Ethan, you _found_ me, for God's sake. And then you've put up with me being moody and needy or humiliating myself by crying. Honestly, I couldn't have got through it without you. So I swear, if I hear you say one more time that you haven't done enough, I'm going to… well," he pauses, "I can't do much at the moment, so you'll just have to live in fear of what I'm going to do when I'm better."

Ethan manages a watery chuckle. "I always live in fear of what you're going to do next anyway."

Cal huffs in amusement. "I like to keep you on your toes," he replies. "But, seriously, Ethan, thank you. For everything."

Ethan's gaze falls to the floor. It hurts to see the intensity in Cal's eyes, as if his brother truly believes that he's done no wrong. Ethan can't imagine ever being completely free from the guilt, but with Cal improving every day, he's determined to focus on the things he has to be thankful for instead.

"Whatever happens next, I know you'll look after me," Cal says. "And the same applies to you. I promise, Ethan, you've got me for life."

Ethan nods but he finds there's a lump in his throat and his reply ends up sounding strangled. "We'll get through everything as brothers."

He's still trying to compose himself when he finds a bag of crisps being thrust into his hand. He throws them a look of mistrust, suspecting the majority are the same that had fallen on the floor, but his inspection is halted by Cal dragging the duvet back over the two of them.

"Snuggle down, Nibbles, we've got a marathon to get through."

Ethan's not sure whether his brother is intentionally changing the subject or whether Cal's oblivious to how much of an impact his words have had. He looks up at his brother to try to decipher which, but he can feel a soppy grin creeping onto his face.

Cal notices he's being watched and stretches out to put an arm around Ethan's shoulders and pull him closer.

"That doesn't hurt you, does it?"

"Not really."

Ethan relaxes into the embrace. As the programme starts, he becomes aware he can feel Cal's heart beating against his cheek. He smiles.

His brother is alive.


End file.
